Semi Charmed Kind of Life
by Beguile
Summary: COMPLETE! Trinity's life before the Neb, Morpheus, and Neo. Pre-Matrix.
1. I'm so Tired of Being Here

Semi-Charmed Kind of Life

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Andy and Larry Wachowski, the geniuses behind the Matrix and I have no claim over them. This story is for entertainment purposes only and there was no money made off the writing and or posting of this story. The chapter titles are also lines to the Evanescence song, 'My Immortal', which I think went with the story really well.

Summary: During her first little while on board the Neb, Trinity gets a bout of the flu bug and succumbs to memories of her life within the Matrix, and a precious life she can't forget. Pre-Matrix. Pre-Neo. No romance between her and any other crewmembers.

Author's Note: Yes, once again I've got Trinity bedridden. But I just never see her sick or weak in the movies, and I figure she has to have that side in her somewhere. The story of Trinity's life is my own personal opinion of what her life was like. 

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Chapter 1: I'm So Tired of Being Here

Mrs Porter always had to call up the stairs for Erica to get off the computer at 2:50 to go and pick up Quinn from school. And she would always receive the same response from the 18 year old: silence. Erica Parker barely made a sound from her attic bedroom.

Erica was far too distracted to answer anyways. She was lying on her carpet, the soft tendrils of yarn prickling against her body as the incense burned on the plate next to her. The needle was hanging limply from her hand and the elastic strewn across the floor, as she hovered somewhere in her euphoria, wanting to wake up from her world.

The computer was on, softly playing music 24/7. The Used, The Clash, AFI, and sometimes HIM if she really felt like a depressing love song. The bed was unkempt, all the blankets usually kicked to the floor from her mad dash in the morning to get to her cocaine which lay in the bathroom not far from her. Mrs Porter, not her mother if anyone wondered or cared about the drug addict niece in the attic of Miranda Porter's house, would never come up and wake her up. She'd given up and even admitted freely that, "If that girl wants to kill herself, I'm not going to stop her. As long as she pays her rent, I'm fine."

Quinn was Erica's biggest worry. The precautious 14 year old was just passing the age when Erica had begun her little habit, and didn't seem to be surrendering to it as easily as her older sister had. But she was aware of it. She had come home while her sister was on a high. She had cleaned up her sister's vomit so Mrs Porter wouldn't find out about it. And she'd dished out more then enough of her hard earned money so her sister could stay.

In the serene cold of her attic, Erica closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the whole world seeming to go quiet and still, everything just slowing down and mellowing out. Her first high had been two weeks ago, and she was falling in love with this sort of slumber.

Her second escape from the cold malice of life was her computer, under the alias 'Trinity' as she proceeded to move rampantly through systems and bringing various computers to their knees. She was a killer gamer, never having been beaten by anyone . Her fingers were quickened, muscular almost, unlike the rest of her which was wasting away to nothing with the amount of cocaine and heroin she was doping herself with. 

"Erica!" Mrs Porter shouted again from the bottom of the stairs, hearing the music coming through the weak floors of her house. She groaned loudly, hating that child and everything about her. She looked at her watch and dreaded the thought of Quinn having to walk home again. Her license was expired, and she would be god damned if she was going to do it again. She had better things to do then run around for Erica Parker. However, when her sister died, she had no choice but to take them in. And she had regretted taking Erica since day one. "Come on Erica! Get out in that car to go pick up your sister!"

The black haired girl opened her eyes, groaning slightly as she picked herself off the floor. The usually nausea feeling rolled over her, the whole world a dream like sensation. She felt numb again, a feeling which made her curl up on her floor and lay there, sighing deeply in relaxation, as she heard the pounding of her Aunt marching up the stairs. _This woman…will die…_she thought to herself, closing her eyes again as the door opened and Miranda Porter came in and proceeded to kick Erica rather harshly.

"Get up." She demanded. Erica groaned in protest, as her aunt grabbed her arm and 'gently' pulled her off the floor. "Get up!"

"Fuck off." Erica said, receiving a cold slap across the cheeks before being dropped to the ground. She loomed on all fours, just sitting there weakly and shaking. To her, the slap wasn't even hurting. Every muscle was just going limp under her.

"You fucking bitch." Miranda said, picking the needles up off the ground and taking them with her. "Heroin. You little bitch. I can't believe you would do this shit in my home!" Erica laughed a little, the drug completely taking away all sense of her judgement.

"Where's the rest of it Erica?" She demanded, going into the bathroom and proceeding to search all the drawers. She found empty bags with white residue littered through the drawers. "Come on Erica, where's your stash?" 

"Screw you." The 18 year old replied quietly. "Screw you!"

Miranda moved back to her and slapped her again.

"You never talk to me like that!" She said loudly, Erica on the floor and blood dripping from her lip. "Not when you're in my house and living by my rules. Now tell me where the rest of this shit is hidden!"

"Up your ass!" Erica said with a small shout. Miranda got some sort of fire in her blue eyes, dangerously glaring at Erica and raising her hand as if prepared to slap her again. The attic allowed sounds to come up from the main level, and the front door creaked open from the foyer and the sound of Quinn's heels traipsing across the floor were heard. Miranda lowered her hand.

"We'll discuss this later." She said, pointing a finger at Erica who fell back on the floor, her head narrowly missing the chair leg. Miranda walked to the door, taking the garbage bag from Erica's trash can and shoving the items inside before closing the door rather loudly. 

Erica couldn't feel like blood coming from her cracked lip. And she couldn't see the massive red mark on her cheek. She couldn't even hear the conversation coming from downstairs where Miranda was no doubt telling Quinn some lie about why her sister couldn't come to pick her up. She didn't even care anymore, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift lazily with the flows of heroin in her veins.

Her whole grisly situation with her Aunt had begun six months ago, long after Daddy ran out the door with some married whore and not long before Erica was back living at home. Her mother was drunk, as usual, talking to Quinn about something even her eldest daughter didn't understand. She was holding a half empty bottle of vodka and a cigarette in the other hand and as she got up, saying she would go for a drive, Quinn couldn't make any protest. Her nose was already bleeding a punch to the face. 

Erica, who should have been home protecting her sister, was out with Dylan, Jack and Linda, sitting in Linda's apartment with cocaine dust scattered over the floor and empty bottles lying everywhere. They were laughing, carrying on, when the cell phone in Erica's purse. It took her ten minutes to find it, and by the time she did, the cops had already left a message about her dead mother and where she could find Quinn. 

Quinn Parker was at Miranda's house already, and it was in the will that Erica should stay as well. Miranda didn't like Erica from the first moment they met. She was the one Aunt that neither sister had heard of before. But she knew them. She had the pictures of the two when they were younger, each in black and each looking sadistic and cold. It was their nature. They shared the same black hair, Quinn's being a little more curly then Erica's, but very much the same. Their eyes were the same blue-grey, almost the colour of sadness itself. They were like dolls in photographs, both trying to stand out of the way of the camera, reluctant to have their picture taken as if some untimely evil would come from the flash.

It was the six months that had hit both of them the hardest. Each had frozen themselves into individual shells. Dylan, Jack and Linda only saw Erica online anymore. She had once had a job as a bartender, but was fired after missing too much work. She now devoted herself to a life on her computer…and to the brain dead girl who was lying on her bedroom floor, half asleep.

The stairs were creaking again, but not with the boom that Miranda gave them any time she was 'forced' to come and speak to the older of the two. This time, it was softer, like someone was literally creeping up the stairs. Erica would have been able to tell that it was Quinn had she been awake, but the heroin just told her that it was all going to be okay. It was like some strong, sadistic security blanket that poisoned her very being.

Quinn opened the door, seeing the visage of her sister lying half dead on the floor. She didn't seem to be affected by this, the whole situation very familiar to her. She instead stepped inside, closing the door behind her and leaving it slightly ajar as she lay down next to her sister and curled beside her. Erica didn't react, her euphoria continuing to wrap her in a world of dreams. Quinn sniffled a little, laying her head on her sister's stomach and feeling it rise and fall with every breath. Erica moved a hand to Quinn's head of black curls, moving her fingers in them slowly like a mother would do. She passed out a moment later, sleeping soundly on the floor as her sister curled closer to her lifeline and closed her eyes, not stopping the tears the hit her sibling's black shirt.

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Something cold was on her forehead, and small droplets of liquid were moving over her cheeks, cutting through the thin layer of sweat and making her shiver. Trinity reached for it lifelessly annoyed with it, as a hand gently took hers and placed it back on the hard mattress.

"Trinity?" Someone asked her gently, kindly. Like a father summoning a child from slumber. She moaned softly, her throat dry and scratched raw from the bacteria in her lungs. Her eyelids parted, the glossy surfaces reflecting the light and having to close again in some frivolous attempt to soothe her aching head. The dull pound became a steady ache as she came back to life. "Trinity?" They asked again, not sure if she was conscious or not. She coughed in response, sitting up in pain and weakness as a comforting hand landed on her shoulder and another behind her head, supporting it as she was laid back down. Trinity blinked, leaving her eyes open enough that they were not blurry, but not enough to let enough light in. Morpheus pressed the cold rag against her forehead again.

"Morpheus?" She croaked, and it didn't come out as full as she had expected. The captain nodded, moving a hand over hers as she fought against the clouds in her mind. "What happened?" Her voice was quiet, barely audible, but Morpheus heard her.

"You fainted." Morpheus replied quietly. "Just after we were got back. Do you remember anything?" Trinity shook her head frantically, trying to clear it and allow her to remember. Everything was so blurry, fading together into a big mass of memory. Morpheus didn't expect her to remember much. She had been complaining of stomach pains earlier that day, coughing on and off, and Morpheus had no idea where it could have come from. Exhaustion, her immune system being lowered after being unplugged, he'd seen it happen a couple of times. He'd never seen it as badly as with the woman before him, but he'd seen it happen.

"I remember being inside." She answered quietly, almost ashamed that she couldn't verbalize the events after the plug was removed from the back of her neck. She shifted uncomfortably, the whole room confining her. "Nothing after that."

"You have a fever of 101. I don't doubt that you can't remember getting back here." She shivered under the blankets, breathing heavily as he removed the cloth and dipped it in the small cup he'd brought it before pressing it back to her head. She quivered, her stomach aching and doing flip flops. She held a hand to it, biting on her lip to keep herself from heaving. Trinity hurled herself forward, leaning over the edge of the bed and finally vomiting on the floor. Morpheus supported her, running a hand over her back and smoothing his hand over her hair. The vomit sank under the grate, moving itself into the systems. It would get cleaned eventually by one of them. 

Trinity relaxed over his knee, trying to push herself back into the bed. With care, he lay her back down, straightening out the IV tube in the plug on her forearm. Trinity whimpered softly, her mouth still tasting like vomit. He was worried she couldn't keep any liquids down, but he lifted her head anyways and pilled some clean water into her mouth, allowing it to slide easily down her throat before giving her an additional sip. The woman breathed heavily, swallowing hard as the liquid soothed her throat. The vomit taste was still there, though not as heavily as before.

Morpheus glanced at the IV bag on the wall. It was dwindling, and he would have to refill it if Trinity continued to vomit. She turned over, moaning softly in some form of delirium. The captain sighed deeply.

"Rest Trinity." He said quietly, as the black haired woman visibly relaxed and fell into a restless slumber.

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I realize sickness would be virtually impossible aboard the Neb. This is a little AU, since I wanted to show flashbacks of her life in an original way. 

Please R&R and constructive criticism makes my day!


	2. Suppressed by all my Childish Fears

Jocelyn: I have fixed the ages in my previous chapter. Thanks for pointing that out. I kind of figured 15 or 16 would have been too young, but it does make sense that the younger the person is, the easier it is to let go. Also, the timeline is Pre-Matrix and Pre-Neo, not long after Trinity was unplugged. It's in the summary in Chapter 1. 

Lanaya: I can't remember where I read that, but they'd have to keep the Neb really sanitized wouldn't they? Also, they don't eat sugar, which lowers your immune system. Hopefully the story will be good. Thanks so much for your support!

Callyfin: *smiles* Wow. I would have loved to have written for the movies. They're the best! Thank you so much!

Yay! Reviewers make my day!

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Andy and Larry Wachowski, the geniuses behind the Matrix and I have no claim over them. This story is for entertainment purposes only and there was no money made off the writing and or posting of this story. The chapter titles are also lines to the Evanescence song, 'My Immortal', which I think went with the story really well.

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Chapter 2: Suppressed by all my Childish Fears

"Why can't I come too, Erica?" Quinn whined, trying to keep up with her teenaged sister. Her nine year old legs couldn't carry her as fast yet. Angrily, her sister turned, her two friends standing and waiting at the end of the path to the house.

"You're too young. Go back inside Quinn!" 

"No! Why do you always get to go out and do stuff? I want to come too!" Quinn stomped her feet, crossing her arms angrily. Erica shook her head and walked down to the end of the path, opening the gate angrily and slamming it shut before Quinn could get to it. One of her friends handed her a cigarette, which she took gladly.

"Go back inside the house Quinn!"

"Erica!"

"Get back inside!" Erica shouted, pointing at the house. Quinn's bottom lip quivered and she angrily bolted back inside the house. The thirteen year old turned back around and received the light from Linda Horne, on her left. "Brat." She said flippantly as she smoked on the cigarette.

"How do you put up with that?" Grace asked from her left side, as she tossed and tousled her bleach blonde hair before putting the cigarette to her lips.

"She's such a brat." Erica replied sadistically, blowing the smoke into the air as they walked down the street. "I hate her."

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Trinity turned over again on the mattress, heaving dryly once more. Her stomach was in agony, the muscles only bringing up dry heaves now. Her last attack lasted for what seemed like an eternity, and brought only bile and a bit of stomach acid that made her throat burn.

Morpheus was practically attached to her, trying to lower the high fever that was causing her to shiver and tremble violently. It had been two hours, he had counted the minutes in his head, and the fever was showing no signs of breaking. Her hand tightened on the sheet and blanket covering her, trying to pull it closer as she trembled. The captain noticed her relax. He grabbed the cup of water again, expecting her to try in a small sip, but she raised a hand in protest.

"No." She said quietly, coughing again. "It's a waste."

"You have to try."

"It's nothing but heaves." She explained silently, swallowing hard against her throat. It was pure torture for her to even think about it. She raised a hand to her forehead, wiping the sweat off again with a heavy breath. Everything was starting to hurt. She coughed, holding a hand over her mouth as she tried to clear her trachea of the phlegm threatening her breath.

Morpheus looked at her hand and pulled in a shaking breath. The green mucus was a bad sign. He watched as Trinity finished her coughing attack, visibly getting weaker. She pulled in another shaking breath and was forced into another fit, this time leading her close to convulsions.

"Easy Trinity." Morpheus said, a sense of worry in his voice as he held her steady. The woman continued to cough, forcing the bacteria out and into her hand. Small amounts of bile were evident as well as she moved back shakily, her hand laying limply out of the covers. "Just take it easy." He soothed, running a hand over her back. 

Trinity calmed, breathing slowly and drinking in the cold, sweet oxygen. She allowed her muscles to go limp against the bed.

"I can't take much more of this." She admitted painfully, moaning against the pain in her stomach as it started to heave again. Morpheus helplessly watched her heave over the side of the bed, able to do nothing but keep a steady hand on her back and one of her shoulder for support. The heaves stopped a moment later, a thin line of bile moving from her lips as she spit it out, disgusted. Morpheus helped her lie back down, smoothing the blankets back over her.

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Sneaking back inside the house was a huge adrenaline rush. Getting out was so simple. Her parents would be so drunk by the time she got home that they wouldn't care whether her curfew was 10:00 or 4:00 in the morning. Getting back in was the real fun.

It was easily three o'clock in the morning, judging by the moon since she didn't have a watch. Her system filled with cigarettes and a small amount of alcohol from the party, the thirteen year old bounded up the tree like a monkey, swinging to her window and carefully sitting herself on the sill. Erica had bypassed the main level, able to hear her parents fighting as she approached the house. She slid her fingers between the sliding window and the sill and pushed upwards, opening the link to the inside of her bedroom.

Erica clambered inside, closing the window quietly as she crept to the door. The early morning argument was on, somewhere downstairs. Her parents were both fighting about something forgettable like money, or the children, or the mortgage, or either one of them being useless.

_They're both fucking useless,_ Erica thought as she peeled off her clothing and slid into her pyjamas. The argument was escalating as did so, the sound of broken dishes easy to hear through the weak floorboards of the house. The thirteen year old pulled the hair clips out of her hair and moved back to her bed on the right hand side of the room. She buried herself under the covers, trying to block out the sounds of her father screaming at her mother.

As she tried to drown out the sounds of her bickering parents, she could hear a new sound coming through the walls. From Quinn's room. There was a small creak as she heard the girl's door being closed and then the sound of sobbing. Childlike sounds as the young girl tried to keep herself quiet from the noise downstairs. In fear. Erica had once started to cry when she was 6 at her parents' fighting.

Her own father had broken her arm.

Erica tried to assure herself that any second Quinn would fall asleep. Any second the nine year old brat would lie back down, realize there's nothing to worry about, and just go back to sleep.

_Any second now…_

The universe didn't seem to be able to hear her. Quinn's sobs had slightly amplified. The argument was quieting.

_Shit._

Erica got up and tiptoed to her sister's room. The lights were on, as the small form of her sister sat on the bed, curled in a ball. Her black curls were covering her face, making her seem very surreal. Erica put a finger to her lips.

"Shut up!" She whispered loudly and harshly, making Quinn look up. Her eyes were poisoned with tears, each of them moving down her face. The whites of her eyes were practically red. The feud continued to rage downstairs as Erica turned out the lights and came to the bed. The desk lamp was on, a bluish hue moving over the walls from the lamp shade. Quinn said nothing, just buried her head in her arms again.

"Be quiet Quinn!" She rasped again. The nine year old quieted, but did not raise her head from her arms. Erica came onto the bed, shuffling next to her sister and moving an arm over her shoulders.

"Please be quiet Quinn." She begged. "If you be quiet, everything will be okay." Quinn shifted closer to Erica, hugging her tightly. It first scared the thirteen year old, sitting there with her sister in her arms. But then she relaxed, taking her younger sibling in a hug.

They sat there for a time, Erica rocking the small child back and forth. Quinn seemed to stifle her cries a little, breathing deeply. Erica hushed her again, hearing the argument quiet down. She heard the front door creak open and slam, making her jolt a little.

"What's happening?" Quinn asked. Erica listened. She could hear her mother downstairs whimpering. 

"Dad's gone." She said finally. Quinn looked at the door. The nine year old curled up with her big sister. Erica kept a protective arm over her shoulders. 

"Will he come back?" Quinn asked. 

Erica could have done anything. She could have lied. Instead, she shook her head. But Quinn didn't seem sad.

"Good." She said softly, listening to her mother downstairs sob. The two girls sat motionless on the bed. Erica looked a little surprised at Quinn's remarks, but she continued to move a hand over Quinn's fragile back.

"I would have killed them for you." Erica admitted. "Either one of them. In a heartbeat." Quinn sighed deeply, falling asleep against her sister's shoulder. Erica bestowed a kiss on her sister's forehead.

"I will always take care of you." She assured the girl. Quinn sniffled, burying herself with her older sister and fell asleep. Erica remained awake, hearing the last of her mother's putrid sobs and the beginning of a very bad life was awaiting her.

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The eighteen year old Erica was lucid again, pushing a blanket off of her. Funny, she didn't remember having a blanket over her when she was shooting up. She also noted her bed had been made, the music was off, the dishes on her desk had been taken downstairs, and the computer was now shut down for the first time in weeks.

_Damn it, Quinn._ She got up off the floor shakily, allowing her body to adjust a little from the return to the waking world. Immediately, as if on instinct, she moved to the bathroom and reached for her bag of cocaine. Her finger gripped nothing.

Someone had removed her stash.

The anger was quick to rise inside of Erica as she stormed out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the upstairs level. The whole house was quiet, the eerie blue of twilight coming in through the windows. Outside, snow was falling to the Earth in some sort of magical way. It enchanted Erica temporarily, but nothing would spare the person who took her stash that wrath of her anger. Not even Mirada would be safe from her if she got her hands on her.

She saw the woman's door closed, and went to it, shaking the handle a little. _The bitch locked the door, great._ Erica growled and tried opening the door again and again. Miranda was either asleep or getting the shotgun she slept with on the wall. But there wasn't a sound from inside the room. The eighteen year old pounded on the door angrily.

"I hid it in the kitchen." Erica turned, as Quinn stood in the hall, carrying her sketchbook under one arm and her digital camera in the other. "Under the silverware drawer." 

Erica said nothing as Quinn turned and moved back down the hall. She opened the door to her room and shut it quietly, as the eighteen year old moved down to the kitchen.

She yanked out the silverware drawer, dropping it to the ground with the clatter of spoons, knives, and forks. She felt around and grasped the small baggy with her cocaine in it. Erica sighed deeply in satisfaction as she ran back upstairs to her room, clutching the bag childishly. She trotted up the attic stairs and into her room, sitting on the floor cross legged.

The white powder took a second to prepare before Erica snorted a whole line. Immediately, the artificial happiness of the drug took over, making her lay back on her floor and laugh softly with a smile on her face. The drug was like a parent to her, taking her by the hand and telling her everything was going to be alright. 

She climbed onto her chair in front of the computer, the glee coming from her as she swallowed hard. Her nostrils burned from the powder that had moved up through her nose. Particles of residue made her sneeze, before wiping her nose on the back of her hand and then turning on her computer. The monitor buzzed to life, coming up to her password. She typed it quickly, her usual range of programs starting up. As soon as the Internet connected she was on MSN, seeing who was on.

Linda was on, but marked as away. Knowing Linda, she was probably with some guy, making a live broadcast of all the bedroom activities. Trinity didn't care anyways. It was getting tedious hacking small websites, stealing files and money. It was beginning to bore her. 

_I need a real challenge_, she decided, thinking about it in her drugged mind. _Some government agency. Something big._

Trinity's fast fingers moved over the keyboard at a lightning pace, never missing a beat. She finally grinned at herself, and quietly thought three letters to herself.

_I.R.S._

Quinn moved silently down the stairs and set about picking up the silverware drawer. She could just see her sister upstairs, sniffing a line of that shit. Why she had stolen the bag off her Aunt she'd never know. All she knew was that she had to help Erica. That was her only task in life. This was it.

She put another spoon back in the drawer.

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Well, questions? Comments? Constructive Criticism that can make the story better?


	3. If You Have to Leave, I Wish That You Wo...

Protectress of Dalidon: Wow. Thanks for reviewing! I hope I've done Trinity some justice as Erica, even if she is a drug addict.

Alocin: Hee heee heee…Smith hallucinations. Actually it was really weird. I had a dream about him this weekend! I think I have to stop watching the Matrix. Nah…

Emerald3: Excellent? (smiles giddily) Thank you! (huggles her).

Cindy: Yes, Trinity is a drug addict. That was just the way I envisioned her. She seemed like the type. It's nothing against Trinity, because I love the character, but she just appeared to be the addict type.

THANKS TO ALL THE REVIEWERS! AND IT WAS NICE TO HEAR FROM PROTECTRESS OF DALIDON, ALOCIN, AND EMERALD3 AGAIN!

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of the Wachowski Brothers, Andy and Larry, and are in no way, shape or form my own. There was no money made off the posting or writing of this story and it was for entertainment purposes only.

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Chapter 3: If You Have to Leave, I Wish That You Would Just Leave

Erica sighed very deeply as she pulled the black tank top over her head. As long as she kept her coat on, she could hide the few wrinkles on it caused by lying in the rumples of her bedding. It couldn't have been in a worse place as the funeral date drew nearer. She now looked half elegant, wearing a borrowed skirt from Linda, the black tank top and the black blouse she had worn to work once. It still smelled like alcohol. _Perfect Erica. Show up at your mother's funeral with a blouse that smells like her murderer._

"Shut up." She hissed the voice in her head, and straightened it a little. Erica gave herself brownie points for looking semi-presentable. She had to admit, in those clothes, she could have fooled anyone that she was a good daughter and actually half cared about the woman in the coffin.

Inside, she was screaming at herself, wondering why she had to suffer through her mother's funeral. It was torture for her to even think about the tedious events that would play out. She wouldn't cry. She refused to cry over that bitch, the whore, that thing in the coffin. 

She would rather cry over Miranda. 

Erica walked down the stairs slowly in her black nylons, not wanting to make runs in them. The thighs already had enough, and were practically splitting anyways. The stairs creaked and cracked under her. Twice she had felt them nearly break under her toes as she climbed them. 

The whole house needed a make over. It was far too country. Erica couldn't wait to move in with Jack again. His house was at least liveable. Computer parts everywhere, crap food in the cupboards, no telling you that the music was too loud and that you were a waste of skin. No one shouting obscenities like how her whore of a mother should never have pushed her out. 

Erica didn't care anymore. She just wanted the day to be over.

"Come on! Quinn? Erica?" Mrs Porter wasn't expecting an answer. She knew neither of them would reply. She walked around downstairs, getting her purse ready and fixing her dress some more. Erica glanced down from the middle level and looked into Quinn's room.

It was fascinating to see a fourteen year old not crying on the day of her mother's funeral. Erica had seen two people in her High School lose their mothers and have to drop out. Instead, Quinn was sitting in front of her mirror, that same morbid look on her face, as she tried to cover up the injuries she's suffered with dwindling amounts of eye make-up. Her eyes had some misted shadow on them, and her hair was drawn back into a ponytail. The curls were still wet and twisted.

She looked nice though. Her clothes were clean, pressed, and she came off as a prep in the cardigan she was wearing. Erica shook her head. 

__

Miranda, if you ever dress my sister again, so help me…

It was raining. The steady amounts of rain tumbled over Erica's head and traveled down her body. Lord, if there was one thing she loved, it was the rain. It was glorious to feel it tumble on her head, pasting the locks of black hair to her head. She loved the cooling sensation of the summer rain as it tickled her skin and made her head swim like the drugs at home. It was beautiful to have it run over her bare arms. 

She felt almost human again.

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Trinity gasped as she awoke, clawing at Morpheus's back with her fingernails, leaving small red marks under where her nails traveled. The cold water from the showers were moving down her sweat covered clothes and over her head. She shivered, her body convulsing as the cold water hit her. She gripped him harder, trying to ward off the freezing drops of water that were moving over her.

It was killing Morpheus of course, as Trinity tried to fight his cruel medicine. The fever wasn't stopping, and he had opted out of this at first, the thought of putting her in the showers more of a punishment then a cure. But the antibiotics weren't working. And Trinity was getting worse.

So he did this. And the clawing on his back subdued as she adjusted to the temperature of the water dripping over her clammy skin. A shiver moved up the soft peaks of her spine as she bent her back and flexed her muscles, moaning as the cold pained her. Every muscle finally dropped and Morpheus supported her as her legs caved out. Her head feel back on her, tasting the water as it dripped into over her cracked lips and into her throat.

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There wasn't anything good about the reception after the funeral. People actually tried to apologize for what happened. Erica just rolled her eyes, preparing to bite the head off the next person who so much as uttered that they were sorry about the bitch who pretended to be her mother. She glanced out the window at the backyard, the clouds blocking out the sun and down on her relative's rope swings that hung from the trees by the bay window. Erica gave a soft smile, walking out the front door to her baby sister, swinging back and forth on the swing set.

They regarded each other with a glance, their blue eyes drifting away, uninterested in one another. Quinn wasn't sulking. She was being her usual Quinn-self, sitting alone while others tried to comfort her. During the mass Erica could practically hear her thoughts, if it were possible. She could hear the dark demons of the young girl's past screaming at the Minister that there was no God, and that her mother was a drunk, and she could have seen the girl leap up at any time and begin chopping the body to pieces. Quinn's hatred was like Erica's. It practically flowed through her veins.

"I'm not going to feel sorry." She finally said, he voice dripping with cold. "Because I don't."

"Good." Erica replied quickly, making Quinn look at her. "Because I wouldn't have you to feel sorry for that bitch."

Quinn gave a small laugh, her small lips curving into a smile temporarily. It faded however, hidden behind her mask of monotonous replied and the hatred burning in her heart. Erica moved to the swing next to her, sitting on it. For a long while they said nothing. They sat, unmoving, watching the people within the house make nonchalant looks at them and try not to seem as if they were staring.

"Why is it that people have eyes?" Quinn asked. Erica turned to her sister, who was looking at the ground with her depressed eyes. "They don't do anything. All they do is stare. They stare at the things we don't understand." She swallowed hard. "At least in a world without them all we'd be able to stare at the darkness." Erica didn't think she had a reply for that. Quinn continued to stare off, watching the other children running around in the backyard on the trampoline. 

"People suck." Erica replied silently, knowing it wasn't exactly the answer Quinn was looking for. It was a small comfort, seeing as how her eyes stopped looking so angry and so hurt. The older of the two sighed deeply, the conversation strained.

"I want to wake up." Quinn said, starting to swing back and forth a little higher. Erica watched her, the skirt moving up her thighs and nearly showing her underwear. But Quinn kicked off her shoes, the heavy heels hitting the ground as she continued to go higher and higher.

The swing reached the highest point. Quinn let go of the ropes and dropped from the swing. Erica's eyes widened.

"Quinn!" The fourteen year old hit the wet ground, rolling slightly. The eighteen year old got up from the swing, moving quickly to her sister. The two looked at one another, as the younger of the two looked up into the clouds.

"Are you okay?" Erica asked. Her sister nodded, laying on her back in the wet grass and looking at the sky. A slight drizzle started and moved down them. 

"Wake up with me, Erica."

************************************************************************

The front door slammed.

"Quinn!" Miranda called, opening the door as the teenager bolted out of the house with her hair flying. The snow was falling, the moon in the sky. Erica just heard the door slam and turned back to her computer, watching the news reports popping up all over the Internet about the now 'legendary' Trinity. The hacker who hacked the IRS and stole some of the most encrypted files within their system. She could hear Miranda cursing under her breath. She could hear the phone being picked up as she no doubt called half of Quinn's friends.

Erica fought against her conscience. On one hand, there was the connection she felt with her sister. On the other hand, there was the connection she felt to her computer and all the potential buyers lined up for those files from the IRS. She groaned against the family headache she was getting and grabbed her coat out of the closet.

Her monitor flickered and went black. Erica stopped with her coat, looking at the screen a moment, mesmerized by it.

HELLO, TRINITY.

Erica looked at the monitor, trying to press ctrl-alt-del and reset it. The monitor remained, the cryptic green message staring at her. She clicked her mouse a couple of times and the message continued:

THE MATRIX HAS YOU.

She froze, staring at it instead of making it disappear.

TIME TO WAKE UP.

She blinked and her computer rebooted, the message vanishing from her eyes. Erica stood up straight, still looking down at her monitor.

She jumped as the phone rang suddenly. The shrill tone of her cell phone made her heart skip a beat and gasp. Erica caught her breath, looking at the caller display. It was an unknown number. _Probably Quinn_, she thought hopefully, but then stopped.

She had just got that phone. Miranda had given it to her so they could keep in touch.

Nobody knew her number yet.

Erica pressed SEND cautiously and did not say a word. The voice on the other line was deep, and spoke slowly.

"Hello Trinity." The voice said. Erica said nothing. _It can't be the cops. And the IRS have no idea about me yet._ "Don't worry. I'm not calling about the missing files from the IRS."

"Who is this?" She demanded. "Where did you get this number?"

"You know who this is." He said mysteriously, his voice deepening. Trinity looked from the computer and looked at the phone for a moment. She sighed deeply.

"Morpheus." She said quietly, a statement rather than a question. The man seemed to inhale.

"Yes." He said to her, looking out the windows into the clear night sky. Wraith glanced over from the driver's seat anxiously, brushing back his blonde hair. "You said you wanted to know what the Matrix is."

Erica looked at the door, her hand on her coat. 

"Would you still like to know?" She looked at the floor, then back at her computer.

_Quinn's fine,_ she assured herself. _She always comes back._

"Yes." She found herself whispering. Morpheus smiled and Wraith sighed.

"Come on, let's get this done." He said, his lurid Australian accent curving ever word. Morpheus continued.

"Come to the Adam's Street bridge." He commanded, and hung up. Wraith pulled away from the curve nervously, looking through his mirrors and over his shoulders.

"Relax Wraith." Morpheus commanded. The man glanced at him. "We're not in trouble yet."

"Yet." Wraith replied, and held his breath as they turned the corner.

************************************************************************

Erica raced down the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going?" Miranda snapped from the kitchen. Erica grabbed the handle of the front door.

"To find Quinn." She blurted out quickly, a total lie, looking into the kitchen. "Does that surprise you?"

"Get in here." Miranda commanded. Erica shook her head and walked out of the front door. Mrs Porter groaned loudly, looking at the clock on the while.

Within an hour, both of her nieces had stormed off.

_Perfect._

Erica took out the keys to her car. Frantically she shoved it into the lock and opened the door, glancing over her shoulder occasionally to see if her bitch of an Aunt would follow her. The woman didn't, to Erica's luck, and the black haired girl got into the car and sped off, nearly getting into an accident. The car honked loudly at her and Erica honked back, cursing to herself. She was about to put her foot on the gas pedal when something hit the trunk of the car.

Quinn caused her sister to slam her foot on the brake. The fourteen year old ran to the passenger door and got inside. Erica didn't ask. She was about to tell the girl to go back inside.

"You can't force me back in there." Quinn said. Erica growled and put the car in park, getting out of the car and coming around to the passenger door. Quinn locked the doors and Erica yanked on the handle. 

"Quinn. Open the door!" Quinn crossed her arms and stared through the windshield. "Open the god damn door right now Quinn!" The fourteen year old grabbed the stereo knob and blasted the neighbourhood with Marilyn Manson. Erica threw her hands at the window.

"This is the wrong time to be immature Quinn now OPEN THE DOOR!" Nothing. Not even a flinch. A tear was moving down her cheek and Quinn remained like a stone, unblinking. There was no shred of humanity in her face at all.

"QUINN!" Erica shouted again, yanking on the handle. _DAMN HER! DOES SHE NOT GET IT? _"QUINN! Open this door right now or so help me…"

"You'll what?!" She screamed, turning off the music and throwing the door into her sister. Erica was thrown off the driveway and almost off her feet. "You'll punch me?" Quinn stood up and pointed an accusing finger at her, sobbing. "You'll hit me? You'll do what, Erica? Go shoot up on some more FUCKING HEROIN!"

"Fuck you Quinn!" Erica got back to her feet. "Stop trying to play mommy! Always taking care of me!" 

"At least I try!"

"Try at what? Being the mother you never had?" Quinn was quiet, listening to her sister's cruel words. "Maybe you just can't take it that I got to go out. What? A couple of bruises and you're crying? Try taking your shit on top of Miranda's and then you'll know what it's like to be in pain!"

Erica never saw it coming. Quinn punched her. The bony fist of the petite fourteen year old flew up and struck her across the face, throwing her back and into the hedge separating the property. There was a snap, and at first the eighteen year old though it was her nose until she saw the line moving over Quinn's knuckles that blood was spewing out of. The fourteen year old was rigid, shaking with anger and pain as she clenched her fists and breathed a quivering breath. Erica gripped her face, feeling bruises from Miranda throb and swell. 

The sisters couldn't even move. Snow was beginning to fall from the sky and drop itself on them, but both were completely still.

Quinn was shivering, looking at her sister in shock as Erica lifted herself off the snowy ground. She spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and looked up at Quinn, who looked completely frozen. Her fists were still clenched, and Erica was a little afraid of being hit again.

Instead, her younger sister reach upwards and pulled the eighteen year old into a hug. She had to go on tiptoes, but it was a hug as she buried her face into the older girl's shoulder. Erica could hear Quinn start to cry again, sobbing and moving her fingers over Erica's back. The eighteen year old didn't cry, but moved her hands over Quinn's back and lowered herself down so the smaller girl was flat foot on the ground.

"I'm sorry." Quinn said quietly, hugging her sister tighter.

"I know. I know. Don't worry." Erica said, her cheek throbbing. "I'm sorry too." Quinn sniffled a little and Erica sighed, allowing her to be released. They stood on the driveway, breathing heavily. The fourteen year old wanted a picture of this, her eye make up trickling down her cheeks like some gothic nightmare. She wanted this picture of sadness. But she resisted the urge to take the camera out of her pocket.

"I want you to kill her." Quinn admitted painfully. Erica stared at her as if to ask who they were talking about. "I want you to kill Miranda for me."

Erica gave a small laugh. She felt the snow hit her forehead and dance over Quinn's black curls. 

"Believe me. I would."

"But?" Erica couldn't believe Quinn sounded serious on this. Her eyes were running with black make up. Thick inky tears were moving down her cheeks. 

"Just get in the car." Erica said finally, moving back to the driver's seat. Quinn wiped away the thick paste from her cheeks, unlocking the doors. The two got into the car and slammed the doors, neither one speaking as Erica put it in drive again.

Something hit the roof of the car heavily.

"What the hell…?" Erica asked, opening her door and getting out. Quinn followed quickly. The first man jumped off the car and landed at the left side of the driveway. A man in a suit approached from the right hand side of the driveway, closing in on the two.

"Trinity, right?" He said, glaring menacingly between the two near identical girls. Quinn's hands were trembling as he finally came to focus on Erica through his sunglasses.

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The The Adam's Street Bridge was used in the classic Matrix. I'm sorry. I couldn't think of anything else. For now, please review and tell me anything that you believe could make the story better!

Cool Tidbits of Info: In The Matrix, during the debugging scene in the car, if you look at the raindrops on the window you'll notice they're tinted green and look like the code. Also, during the Cypher/Smith restaurant scene, Cypher lights an already lit cigar.


	4. Because Your Presence Still Lingers Here

Emerald03: You are not stupid! And even if you are I'll still wuv you. Have a cookie for being a good reviewer! (gives her a Rianbow Chips Ahoy Cookie, because, as we all know, the coloured chcolate chips are better then the regular ones).

Protectress of Dalidon: And here's the next chapter! Fresh off my Microsoft Works!

Alocin: I'm not sure having Smith in your dreams is cool. Course it is better then that Cary Elwes dream I had…but we're not going to discuss that! I'm not revealing if the ending is tragic, because I'm sampling various endings. I would love to have Quinn come into the real world with Trin, but I'd hate to change the Wachowski story!

Thanks again to all you people!

Disclaimer: It's the Wachowski Brother's characters and concepts.

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Chapter 4: Because Your Presence Still Lingers Here

Trinity opened her eyes madly, shivering wildly under the blankets. Morpheus held her still as she tried to jerk around on the bed. She was practically naked under the sheets, perspiration dripping from her forehead although not as quickly anymore. Morpheus was happy to say that the fever was close to breaking after the showers, and despite how much agony he had put her through, Trinity was improving. She curled up into a ball, trying to keep warm. Something cold was dripping over her skin, and Morpheus brushed the short lock of hair from her cheek, putting it behind her ear.

"You were dreaming." He stated calmly, trying to bring her heart rate down and allow her to relax. The pulsing her heart sounded like gunshots in her mind, weak and delirious she looked around again. "Very vividly, actually."

"It's nothing." She replied in a whisper, coughing harshly afterwards. Morpheus did not press for her to remember. Most of Trinity's past was her little secret anyways. "Just dreams." She seemed so sure of herself when she said that, even though she was drifting off into sleep again. 

"Dreams remind us of who were are." Morpheus stated in the infinite wisdom tone of his. The tone he took when he was speaking about the prophecy of the One. "They're like scars, Trinity. They can help you become who you're supposed to be." Trinity shook her head, eyelids fluttering again. Morpheus's hand was on her forehead, feeling the unnatural heat rising from it. It was, however, less then what it had been. He withdrew the palm of his hand. 

"Not these dreams." She said to him, coughing again. Morpheus nodded slightly to himself as she closed her eyelids. Everything was aching. Her eyelids were burning when they were open.

"Perhaps." He said, as she drifted off again, thick rolls of sleep rolling into her mind and weighing her down as she fell asleep. Morpheus sighed deeply, leaning back against the wall.

Her lips moved and curved with the dream, as the delirium made her eyes move quickly in her skull.

************************************************************************

Erica quickly glanced from Quinn to the two men approaching the house. She heard the alias from the man on the right, getting very afraid that they were from some government agency. That would be the last thing she needed is right here, on her aunt's front lawn, to be taken away in handcuffs in front of her little sister's eyes.

_Perfect example for her._

_Shut up!_

"Take her." The man on Quinn's side said. "Kill the other." Erica could only assume who the other was, making a special glance at her tiny younger sister. Quinn moved a shaking hand to the roof of the car, watching the man in the suit very carefully as the man he drew a gun from his suit. The barrel was pointed right at her, glinting in the streetlamps. The man on the left moved for Erica, as Quinn stood very still and awaited the bullet, a thin tear moving down her cheek.

"Quinn!" Erica expected her sister to just awaken from her vigil. But the fourteen year old said nothing and her sister was snatched, taking her attention off the gun momentarily. 

A loud explosion of gun powder was heard, and the man with the weapon dropped whipped around. His partner's attention was taken as well to the blonde haired man on the street, cocking his shotgun.

"RUN!" Erica commanded, taking her sister's wrist and running as fast as her legs could carry her. Quinn was slightly faster, her leg muscles developed rather then diminished from drugging herself into a coma. They wouldn't and couldn't look behind them. 

The porch door opened.

"Shit." Erica picked up her pace as another one of them took aim. Quinn watched the barrel of the gun, some sort of yearning in her eyes as the bullet was fired again.

The eighteen year old pushed her sister ahead, as the bullet grazed by her cheek. Erica winced painfully, her blood splattered on the driveway.

Another shotgun bullet was fired. Quinn stared at the blonde haired man at the end of the driveway as he fought off one of the two men. The man on the porch ran off the steps and was coming at them again.

The man stepped out of the hedge was like a shadow as he fired his own weapon. Erica wiped the blood off her cheek, bringing Quinn closer to her instinctively. The fourteen year old was shaking softly, watching as the body dropped to the ground and crackled with electricity. 

Their wish had come true. Miranda was dead.

************************************************************************

Erica's fingers moved over the piano apprehensively, hovering the proper keys and the improper ones. The four year old was staring at the sheet music, watching the black notes blend together to create a song that she could not, for the life of her, play correctly. Everything just seemed too out of reach.

The babysitter was in the other room on the phone, talking about something very forgettable to her boyfriend on the long distance bills. She rolled her eyes as another sugar coated giggle and played the C scale again, staring sadistically at the sheet music.

Frustrated, she banged on the keys and got up from the bench, throwing the book across the room. "What was the use anyways?" She asked herself. "I'll never get it. They'll always be that one note that I can't get."

The door was being opened in the front foyer, and the babysitter was giving a frantic goodbye to Matt. Erica knew her place. Come watch TV in the living room and make the babysitter look good.

"Not today." She thought with an evil grin, and stayed in the kitchen colouring as her parents came in. The babysitter, Gillian, made a fast recovery by coming in through the back and plopping down next to her. _Shit,_ the four year old thought, the word coming from her mind flippantly. She'd heard her mommy and daddy use it non-stop. What was the harm in a word?

"We're home!" They said loudly, the two laughing. Erica knew it was fake. The second they got the baby upstairs under her watchful eye it would be bitch, bitch, bitch about everything all over again. The babysitter laughed and got up to greet them, getting her bag and coat from the door, collecting the money from her mother and walking out the door with a too sweet wave at Erica. The small girl gave a wave, watching Gillian walk out the door.

The second the door was closed her mother handed the baby to her.

"Erica." Her mother said, leaning down to her height and handing the fairly heavy package to her. Erica hopped off the stool in the kitchen and nodded. Her father moved into the kitchen silently. "Take your new sister upstairs and show her your room. Daddy and mommy need to talk." The 'daddy and mommy' statement was slightly more forceful, telling Erica to do as she was told. She took the precious package with her in her arms. Lord, the baby was tiny. Erica noticed this immediately as she took her new sibling upstairs.

The door was closed and the shouting started. Erica rolled her eyes in disgust. _For Christ's sake!_ She'd heard her parents say that too, and was not entirely sure she had the right terminology of it, but assumed so. She set the bundle of blankets on her bed, looking at the baby with a look of confusion. _So this is Quinn,_ she thought, not entirely impressed with her sister as of that moment. 

The yelling escalated downstairs and the baby started to stir. Erica looked at the door, glaring at it with a cruel stare. She looked back at the baby, the scrawny thing jostling about and whimpering. 

"And I guess you want me to tell you everything's okay, do you?" The four year old asked, half expecting the baby to do something amazing at that moment. After all, as far as Erica was concerned, she felt that this baby was just some other baby. More then likely one that her careless parent picked up in the nursery in replacement of their own, normal baby.

Erica groaned as the baby started to wake up. She crossed her legs on the bed, took the baby in her arms and like a doll, began to rock the near screaming kid back and forth in her arms.

"It's okay." She said nonchalantly, watching the infant relax again as the yelling and arguing subdued. Erica didn't even catch a word of it this time as the baby's eyes blinked. Her blood ran cold, scared to death that the baby would cry. 

But the baby didn't. It just stared at Erica with eyes that belonged to her older sister.

And didn't cry.

************************************************************************

"We have to leave." The man said. Erica opened her mouth at him. This was Morpheus. That gut feeling in her stomach told her it was. She stared at him a moment, fixated on him as the blood of her aunt ran over the snowy ground. But that man, stood there, awaiting on Trinity (as if they were two different people). He looked at the two girls, Quinn's eyes focused on her aunt's dead form, the bullet right between the eyes.

She reached into her pocket for her camera, but Erica grabbed her hand and they walked away from the scene, following Morpheus.

His partner, the blonde man put his gun back in the holster and ran back to the car, looking up and down the street like a hawk.

"I apologize for the way things turned out." He spoke clearly, opening the back door for the two of them. Quinn didn't question it as she was dragged into the back of the car with Trinity. The man didn't either as he shut the door and got into the front seat. "There always seems to be some kind of obstacle in our path."

"What's going on?" Quinn asked silently, confused by the whole situation.

"Don't ask questions." The blonde one said.

"Wraith." Morpheus said in defence, stopping the possible altercation before it happened. Quinn looked at Erica who was clutching her bleeding knuckles rather tightly and causing blood to move down the seats.

"Sorry." He said, pulling out into the street. Erica looked at her hand as the warm liquid flowed over her fingers and released it quickly. Quinn took it into her lap and wrapped it in her sweater. Wraith made occasional glances into the back seat, just as nervously as before. Morpheus was fingering the hilt of his gun.

"Did you punch one of them?" the blonde asked, a little shocked by the fourteen year old girl's injury. She shook her head, tightening her grip on the sweater over the wound. Wraith looked at Morpheus, who said nothing, but had some sort of bemused grin on his face. Trinity brushed the blood off her cheek.

The car came to a stop outside an ancient looking office building. The snow was coming down heavier now, covering the sidewalks and streets before vanishing with the salt, or making already large piles of snow larger on the ground. Morpheus got out of the car, but stopped his partner.

"No Wraith. You stay down here with Quinn." He looked at Trinity who glanced at her sister. Quinn had no reply as her sister got out of the car and stepped onto the street, following Morpheus. The two walked into the building, Quinn trying to stop the bleeding on her hand. Wraith made a glance into the mirror, his icy blue eyes gleaming in the night.

Erica was left behind at the door, but Trinity continued through, following Morpheus as he walked to the door on the left.

"I realize that tonight has been a rather inopportune night to meet." He began, opening the door into a dishevelled room with two, high backed leather chairs to her right and boarded up windows on the far wall. A small night table was in the centre, a glass of water standing tall on it. "However I could not delay this meeting any longer."

Trinity said nothing, watching Morpheus turn and gesture to the chairs.

"Please, have a seat."

Trinity said nothing as he sat. She, on the other hand, did not. He watched her movements, pulling a small silver box from his pocket.

"I know how you feel right now." He spoke with a sort of wisdom to him, like he knew what she was thinking. "I know that throughout your entire life you've felt something. You can't explain this feeling but you know it's there. And it won't leave you alone." She moved slowly now, into the chair, as if some sort of force had pulled her there. "It was this feeling that lead you to me."

Trinity sighed deeply, watching his glasses with interest at her own reflection. The blood on her cheek was coagulating and scabbing rather quickly. She touched it gingerly, as Morpheus waited for the question.

"What is the Matrix." She finally said, making him smile again.

"Yes." He said deeply, spinning the silver box unconsciously within his fingers. He finally opened the box, dropping two pills into his hands. "It is unfortunate that one must be shown what the Matrix is." He set the box aside, holding out the pills in his hands. Trinity stared at them, the blue pill and the red pill embedding themselves in memory. 

"This is the turning point." He began slowly, making she understood. "After this, there is no going back. There is no turning around." Trinity nodded softly. "Take the blue pill and you stay in dreamland. You wake up in your bed and continue as if none of this ever happened. As if this too is just a dream." The blue pill was almost like the security blanket of her heroin. The assurances she would just stay the same.

"If you take the red pill, the dream ends. You wake up and face the world with knowledge of this moment and find out what the Matrix really is."

Trinity was at a stand still. Red pill equals free from all this. Blue pill equals another day of hell. She couldn't help but just sit there. Morpheus didn't seem to be in a hurry at all, his whole body rigid as he provided the two paths in front of Trinity.

"I don't believe this." She said quietly, making Morpheus smile again.

"That is a choice in itself." He replied in his fatherly voice. The eighteen year old stared at the pills some more, throat dry and doorway behind her beckoning her to go back downstairs.

"I…" Trinity said, rubbing her eyes and temples.

"I never said that it would be easy." He said quietly, Trinity leaning forward again and wincing as her head started to flare in pain. She shook her head quickly.

"I can't do this." She said silently. "I can't." Trinity got up and walked out of the room.

"Trinity." His voice was still there, and now he was standing. "I can't let you walk out of this room." She turned, feeling that degree of control constricting her to this place.

"Watch me." She replied quickly and walked from the room as fast as her feet would carry her.

************************************************************************

Erica reclaimed herself, looking at the door wistfully. Wraith got out of the car, looking shocked as Trinity ripped open the back door and grabbed Quinn's wrist, dragging her from the safe confines of the car and out onto the sidewalk.

"Come on." She ordered cruelly, dragging Quinn down the street. The fourteen year old looked back at Wraith, wanting him to do something. The blonde haired man looked at the doors as Morpheus came back out. Trinity took off in a run down the street.

Wraith moved back into the car and grabbed his gun off the seat. Morpheus raised a hand in protest, the blonde haired man putting the gun down as his mentor grabbed his cellular device. 

"Tank. Get us an exit."

"What about her?" His operator asked, setting up some form of a way out.

"Don't worry." Morpheus replied. "I'm not giving up yet."

************************************************************************

"Where are we going?" Quinn asked as she and her sister came to a slow stop at the lights. The traffic light turned red and they ran. The eighteen year old kept walking at a quickened pace.

"You still want to get out of here?" Erica asked. The smaller of the two opened her mouth, looking strangely around as she was pulled. The eighteen year old heard sirens start up in the distance from their house and she stopped short.

"Erica." Her older sister obviously was not listening and was searching for a place to hide. "Erica?" Still, nothing. Quinn doubted whether or not her sister's adrenaline would allow her to listen. "ERICA! LOOK AT ME!" 

The eighteen year old peered downward at the smaller version of herself, her sister's eyes looking at the sirens moving closer.

"What's going to happen?" She asked. Erica looked at the ground, shaking her head in confusion.

"I don't know." She finally admitted. "I just don't know."

Quinn wanted a better answer then that as the sirens came closer. Erica looked around, just hoping that an escape route would have planted itself in her way. She looked into the alley, finding the cast iron escape route within running reach. 

"This way." She said. Quinn was staring at the oncoming police cruisers. "Quinn! Look, right now we have to fucking run? Okay?" The smaller girl nodded and followed her into the alley, climbing up the ladder first.

The cruisers screeched to a halt, and uniformed officers got out. Erica pushed Quinn upwards, not following. Her smaller sibling looked down.

"Erica!" She said loudly.

"Erica Parker!" The loudspeaker boomed. The older of the two watched the large amount of officers pointing weapons at her. "Step out of the alley with your hands in the air."

"Erica!"

"GET OUT OF HERE QUINN!" Erica ordered. The fourteen year old saw the officers moving in. They could be on the roof. She looked at her sister. 

Slowly, her arms were raised in defeat and she started to walk out of the alley. Quinn couldn't move.

"RUN!" She ordered. And Quinn finally found her feet, not looking back as two of the uniformed men grabbed her sister and shoved her into the cruiser. The one looked up at her as she ran away.

"Should we pursue her?" One asked the other. The strongest one shook his head.

"No. Later." He ordered, getting into the car.

Erica watched her sister's silhouette bound across the rooftop. She looked back in the car and wished she had taken the red pill when she had the chance.

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Questions and comments are all accepted when you review.


	5. And It Won't Leave Me Alone

Emerald3: Wow, I was reading last weeks update and I got your name wrong! I'm sorry! Must spell check harder. I'm not too sure even I feel sorry for Miranda, and I wrote in her character. She was just one of those people that show up and then disappear.  
  
Protectress of Dalidon: I wrote in a little bit more about Quinn in this chapter, but I tried to stay with Erica most of the time, because I wouldn't want everything to just come onto Quinn, despite how much trouble she gets into.  
  
Alocin: If you really think about it, would you want to take either pill after the little choice game he plays with your mind? Morpheus is too smart for his own good. He's like Splinter from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  
  
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Chapter 5: And It Won't Leave Me Alone  
  
Defeat. The crushing wounds were moving over her shoulders and weighing her down as she was pushed into the small metal chair in the interrogation room. Erica showed no fear to the police officers who walked out, the blood oozing down her white cheek slowly as it made itself into a scab under her eye. The pain in her muscles was starting to grow as she relaxed and the kinks in her shoulders and legs started to make themselves known. She shifted uncomfortably.  
  
Afraid? The word didn't mean anything to Erica. What was she afraid of? Losing Quinn? She was probably going to jail for the supposed murder of her Aunt and was more then likely going to be found as the hacker, Trinity, in no time flat. And for the past three years, she'd been losing Quinn anyways. Her presence (or lack there of) would not be sorrowly missed by the older sibling, as dear as she may be.  
  
The door was opened again by two very stone looking gentlemen, each in suits with an odd looking hearing aid poking out of their ears. Trinity stared them in the face, their eyes meeting for a moment as he stared through the polished and gleaming surfaces of dark sunglasses. Her eyes were the same blue-gray, but they weren't sad anymore and hung down. They were angry, with the illusions of fire burning in her irises. The man gave a cocky little smirk.  
  
"Hello Trinity." He said, sliding into the seat in front of her. His voice was flowing, melodic almost, yet deep and frightening like a demon from a children's fairytale. "I must admit, you have given us a pretty difficult time tonight." He annunciated all his t's with a sharp tone of arrogance. The hacker looked at him, as he set a folder on the table in front of him. His partner guarded the door.  
  
"I know how much you dislike small talk so we'll skip straight to the point." He began slowly, folding his hands over the folder. "My associates and I believe that you have been contacted by a dangerous felon by the alias Morpheus."  
  
Her eyes came off the table and looked at him at the mention of the name. "Great." She thought. "Now you've screwed yourself. You've basically hung a sign around your neck that says PLEASE. KILL ME NOW." The man seemed impressed, taking his hands off the file and opening it up. He was about to make a point, and Trinity was about to attempt to actually kill someone that night.  
  
"You, yourself are wanted for nearly every computer crime there is a law for." He began, flipping through printed out records of chatrooms and case file notes from various detectives. "You attack under the alias Trinity. And I'm quite sure nearly every federal agency would love to get their hands on you at this moment."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sure they would." She replied quietly and maliciously. The words like jagged ice on her tongue. The man seemed amused by this little outburst.  
  
"Which, without a doubt, brings us here." He closed the file. "My associates and I would be able to dispose of these records and files without complaint so you can start with a clean slate." He leaned back in his chair a little, his back still straight. "In return, of course, for your assitance in bringing a known criminal to justice."  
  
Trinity's lips pursed in anger.  
  
"You know this is some funny shit." She said cockily, the man looking a little curious. "This is all part of some fucking gag. The whole red-pill-blue-pill-the-whole-fucking-world-is-a-fucking-dream shit. And you had me fooled." The man was still silent, not really listening to her rant. Trinity got a little more angry. "You all sound like my fucking little sister! So please, who paid you? Was it that slut Linda?" The Agent pushed the folder aside from in front of him. "Who put you up to this?"  
  
The man was amused at her outburst. He gave a grin that either meant he was on his last ropes or he was in fact humoured by Trinity.  
  
"Fuck this. Fuck you! I don't have time for this." She said, leaning back and shaking her head. The man still had this wistful grin on his face as he reached into his pocket and gripped a metal box rather tightly.  
  
"You're going to help us, whether you want to or not." He said.  
  
"Screw you." She replied, looking away. The man opened the box, checking its contents.  
  
"Words get you nowhere in this world." He said, looking at her again. Trinity was about to open up her mouth for a snappy comeback, completely infuriated with the man who denied her rights. But her mouth didn't open. She yanked her jaw and three thin slits opened on her face allowing air to come in once more before they sealed up completely.  
  
Holy shit, she thought, reaching for the now bare spot on her face. The partner was nodded for and walked across the room to her. Erica felt him gruffly grab her arms and spin her around on the table, pinning her down with both fists over her head. The more she tried to cry out, the less it seemed to work. The man who had once been interrogating her awaited for the black shirt to be lifted away from her stomach, exposing the diminished frame. Her ribs were seen quite clearly through her pale skin.  
  
The interrogator reached into the small pill box, pulling a object that looked like a metal plug from inside it. The small item dangled from his fingers, in Erica's vivid eyesight as she stared at it. The man turned it, making the small red light turn on as the bobble on the end began to liquify. Like some sort of sadistic embryo, it exploded as a centipede creature was born from within it.  
  
Erica started struggling, pulling harder and harder as the men loomed over her.  
  
The creature hit her stomach, crawling around until it found her naval and began to crawl inside.  
  
Erica screamed.  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
She sat up in bed, the blanket held to her skin by the clothes she was wearing. Her body was aching for air, heart pounding under her ribs almost like it were hitting the protective cage in her chest. Everything was spinning around her like mad, although not as blurry as before it was still painful to sit up. Trinity fell back on the bed, cringing as she hit the hard mattress with a crack in her back.  
  
Cold sweat moved over her face. Annoyed, she wiped it away and turned on her side. She was getting tired again, the same fogs of sickness clouding her mind and making her sick with the way the room was tumbling in her vision.  
  
The door opened quietly, as Morpheus crept back inside. She looked at him and was forced to close her eyes once more. The captain slid back inside, sitting on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on her forehead, feeling the temperature to be almost beck at normal. He had to smile.  
  
"Welcome back." He said quietly, knowing she was awake without even seeing or hearing her move. Trinity opened her eyes, but shut them tightly again because it made everything hurt. Morpheus brushed her cheek. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like shit." She replied quickly, her throat hurting. Morpheus gave a small smile again, watching her open her eyes a lot more slowly this time. Her pupils focused now, fixated on Morpheus as they drifted again.  
  
"You're getting better. The fever broke sometime while you were asleep."  
  
Trinity gave a small and heavy exhale, breathing deeply and swallowing hard. "I'll just be happy when I can get out of this room."  
  
Morpheus put a restraining hand on her shoulder. "Save those feelings for some other time." Trinity groaned, relaxing against the pillow once more. Morpheus got up again, watching her breath even out as she went back into sleep. He reached for the door.  
  
"Morpheus?" She asked him, a little more clearly this time. The captain stopped.  
  
"Yes, Trinity?" He asked. She still had her eyes closed, breathing deeply.  
  
"You never told me..." She began slowly, claiming all her thoughts. For a moment Morpheus had thought perhaps she had fallen back to sleep. But she continued after shifting a little on the flattened pillow. "You never told me what happened after I was arrested."  
  
The captain sighed deeply, moving back to the bed and sitting at the end. Trinity looked at him with her eye half opened, watching him sit and continue the story. After her dreams, she had no idea about the gap of time. She hoped to fill in some of the story.  
  
"Wraith and I exitted." He began slowly, remembering back. Trinity knew Morpheus. He liked remembering. "She left the rooftop and decided to get into a little bit of trouble..."  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Quinn wished she hadn't ran away. She wished she'd been arrested. The stone walls of a jail cell would have been warmer then the quickly dropping temperature of the city. The honks and beeps from beside her in the street weren't much comfort. They were all warm in their cars, driving home from going Christmas shopping and staring at the crazy girl in a blood covered sweater on the street. She passed by the department store where a giant Christmas tree stood decorated in the window, surrounded by beautiful toys. Erica and she never got a Christmas tree. They never got an easter bunny or a Santa Claus. They barely got toys. The only time they did get presents was from their grandmother who funded Erica's piano lessons and Quinn's art obssession. And then she died, and they were left on their own.  
  
She buried her hands in her pockets and bit down on her bottom jaw to keep it from chattering. Blood had already stained through her jeans, moving down her leg. Her eyes were bloodshot and from a quick glance in the shop window, she knew that she resembled Erica with longer and curlier hair. Her bloodshot eyes, clammy skin, diminished look almost frightened her in the twilight.  
  
"HEY! Erica! Long time, no see!" She turned to the street where a black corvette was just hovering at the sidewalk. The two men and woman in the car were laughing it up, the music turned down. The driver realized his mistake. "Oh! Hey, sorry. Thought you were someone else." Quinn looked away. The woman in the backseat said something.  
  
"Hey! You're her kid sister right?" Quinn looked at the woman, sprawled in the back with a joint in her fingers. "Yeah! She doesn't talk about you. You're the one who killed her own mom right? Right?" She looked back at the car. "No! I remember! You were the one who killed he mom! Gwen, right?"  
  
"Yeah. That's right." Quinn replied. She was on her last fibres of patience and didn't care whether her sister talked about her as the anal bitch from hell. She was about to go on a massacre any second.  
  
"Well, you wanna come hang with us?" The driver asked her. Quinn shook her head. The woman moaned.  
  
"Why not? It'll be really fun!" Quinn shook her head again and walked away, down the street.  
  
The car honked its horns.  
  
"Come on, kid." The driver said again. Quinn quickened her pace. The car continued to trail after her. The fourteen year old turned, about to shout something very nasty and prepared to suffer the consequences when two girls walking down in her direction did the job for her.  
  
"Fuck you guys! She's walking here!" One said, brushing a lock of her dyed hair from her face with a black fingernail. The other stuck her middle finger in the air. Each were in leather, heavy spiked bracelets and fish net adornments. "You okay, hun?"  
  
Quinn nodded, sure of herself. The goth on the right watched the car leave.  
  
"Just ignore people like that." She began, pulling a lit cigarette back to her lips. She looked Quinn over, her blue eyes sensing something about her. "Hey. You doing anything tonight?"  
  
"I..." Quinn was about to place a lie following that, but she had nothing to say. Nothing was good enough for the two girls who had basically saved her from Erica's less then intelligent friends. "No, I'm not."  
  
"Well come on with us." The girl on the left beckoned. The fourteen year old didn't know whether to protest or not. "There's a pretty bitching party going on at Club Hell."  
  
"Yeah, and Merv would love having some extra company there."  
  
Quinn wasn't exactly sure she liked the sound of that. But that evening, she had seen her Aunt murdered by a man named Morpheus, her sister get arrested and was nearly killed by sinister business men who had showed up on her front lawn. Finally, she shrugged.  
  
"I'm not really dressed for a Club." The two goths giggled a little.  
  
"No problem. We've got some shit for you to wear." The one on the right opened up her bag and yanking some extra stuff out. Limp pieces of clothing, brushes and bobby pins and bracelets. Almost like they were expecting Quinn. The fourteen year old shrugged again.  
  
"Sure. Why not?"  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Morpheus continued the first part of his story, but when he noticed Trinity's eye had closed over, he gave a small smile and pushed the blanket up around her shoulders. Her breathing was deep and even, hypnotic almost, if it weren't for the wheezing every time she inhaled. He touched her forehead once more as her brow furrowed in unconscious confusion. The skin was just about normal now, as he was proud to see. He checked on the plug in her arm once more before standing up silently and leaving Trinity to her dreams.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Erica snapped awake, grabbing her stomach and trying to brush off anything that was crawling there. She fell off the bench, and her tailbone cracked agonizingly just as her head connected with the concrete floor as well. She groaned, biting her jaws together as she tightened a hand on the growing lump on her scalp.  
  
The prison cell was empty and she was alone. Erica looked around frantically for the men in the suits and the tiny creature that had buried itself inside her. She clawed at her abdomen, the flesh at her fingertips. Her heartbeat was quickened, every sense perked by the massive adrenaline rush she received when she regained consciousness. Her leg muscles dropped her on the bench at the back of the cell and she shivered and broke into a bad cold sweat.  
  
"Drug deprive." Her mind said quietly, and every voice in her head laughed. Trinity beat the back of her head against the wall, her stomach aching violently. There were footprints outside her cell and she looked up, curled in the back of her cell gasping from the severe pains starting in her stomach.  
  
"Erica Parker?" She looked up at the sound of her own name. The guard pointed a thumb behind him at the front desk. "Your boyfriend's here to see you." Erica looked at the ground as the cell was opened and Wraith stood there, arms crossed. She smiled at him weakly, fighting against the massive reprieve from her emotions and walked to him. He hugged her tightly for effect. The guard moved away as the two stood in the cell together. Sensually he moved to her ear.  
  
"I am going to warn you only once about this, copper-top." The name was to be insulting, but Erica didn't find it that way. "If you should do anything that compromises me getting you out, so help me I will kill you. That is a promise." His voice was deep but silent, every syllable rolling of his tongue gently. Erica nodded slowly as he moved back out of the cell and to the guard down the hall.  
  
Erica heard the groans and the pounds of flesh as a body fell limp on the floor. The gun cocked in Wraith's fingers, handled expertly by the markman as he grabbed Erica by the wrist and aimed the gun ahead of him, moving through the local Police Department with ease.  
  
The chaos was subdued with the firing of a single bullet into the air. The eighteen year old was pulled along, to the doors, Wraith shouting out threats he would no doubt fufill had anyone tried to stop him. He forced her outside into the night air where the sun was a crack in the sky. The gun was still facing inward and he pushed her to the car.  
  
"Get in." He ordered.  
  
"Why should I?" She asked him coldly.  
  
"Because I just saved your ass." He replied, just as cruelly. "And we have to go get Morpheus while he saves your sister's." Wraith opened the door and shoved Erica inside, not caring whether she hit her head on the ceiling as she sat or not. He slammed the door.  
  
Erica looked at the Police Station, the cops inside all watching and calling for help from various departments as Wraith tossed a small canister over his shoulder.  
  
The explosion that followed was fairly small, but gas floated out and into the street. The officers at the window collapsed to the floor, and Wraith got into the car, slamming the door equally as hard behind him. As he did so, Erica grabbed the handle of her door and took a deep breath before she ran off down the street.  
  
"DAMN IT!" Wraith shouted, starting the car and taking off.  
  
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Questions, Comments, Genuine Ideas About Improvements of the Story...Please Review. 


	6. These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal

Protectress of Dalidon: There's more of Quinn in this chapter as well, but I can't reveal whether she will be unplugged or not. I was considering it, but I don't know. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Emerald3: YAY! Thanks so much. Wow. I'm am on like a mental high right now. I love reviews!  
  
Alocin: Hmmm...I wonder what Trinity would do if that happened? I think that there would be some ass kicking of some gap-toothed freaky leather- clad men if she was tricked! And by God, the Merovingian does make an appearance!  
  
Alana the Black Mage: There is more Quinn in this chapter, and I really hope I got Trinity in her true nature. Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Disclaimer: The characters and concepts pertaining to the Matrix within this story are the property of Andy and Larry Wachowski, my heroes, and Warner Brothers. They are in no way mine and there was no money made off this story.  
  
Author's Note: The story gets a little AU in this chapter. I know I tried to keep it as flowing as possible, but just a warning, it gets a little AU.  
  
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Chapter 6: These Wounds Won't Seem to Heal  
  
Erica opened one eye and looked around in the brightly lit hospital room. There was one stain she saw in her view of the white place, and that was Quinn's dark hair as she hovered over Erica's immobile arm. The sling was tight around it, keeping it close to her chest. She winced as something shook it and closed her eyes again, hissing at how tired she felt.  
  
She finally opened her eyes again and looked at what Quinn was doing. Her cast was covered in tiny shapes with three points and an intricate amount of loops and knots within the center. The small ten year old moved the black permeanent marker, watching the strokes with widened eyes and pupils.  
  
"What are you doing?" Erica asked simply, watching Quinn doodle another intricate shape on the cast, this time larger then the others.  
  
"It's called the trinity knot." The ten year old said to her, brushing the black curls behind her ear and continuing silently. "It separates the three planes of mind, spirit, and body. It's from Celtic mytho...myth-ol-logy." She had to sound out the word to get her tongue around it, but she continued to draw peacefully.  
  
"You can't even spell mythology. Where the hell did you learn this?"  
  
"Reader's Digest." She replied quickly, holding Erica's cast in place. "And I can too spell mythology. M-I-T-H-O-L-O-G-Y." The fourteen year old Erica rolled her eyes.  
  
"It's M-Y-T-H." Quinn shrugged, not really caring about the proper spelling of the word. She continued to draw another knot. Erica watched her pupils get larger and smaller with the movement, like the very doodle was a drug that she was compulsed to try. Erica looked at the window of the room, where her mother and her new boyfriend were arguing with a doctor.  
  
"What was the excuse this time?" Erica asked quietly, her sister not looking up from her injured arm. Quinn tilted her head a little, moving the pen slowly.  
  
"You fell out of the tree in the backyard trying to sneak into your room." Quinn replied, still watching her drawing. The older sibling looked back at her mother who was pretending to cry at the allegations of child abuse made by the doctor. "It wasn't her you moron." She thought bitterly, bending her good arm behind her head. "It was that bastard Tom."  
  
Tom was the man in question, standing slightly taller then her mother by a few inches. He was actually quite ugly, with a nose that was at least four sizes too big for his face and eyes that were two sizes too small. What really appaled Erica more was that her mother had started sleeping with him, and the thought of even imagining kissing someone with no upper lip almost made the fourteen year old retch.  
  
"How's he?" She had to ask, not really out of compassion. Quinn shrugged.  
  
"He's limping." Erica smiled and closed her eyes, satisfied.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
The eighteen year old was running down the street, her heart pounding in her throat as she heard Wraith's car screech from it's parking spot. She had no hopes of outrunning him. But outsmarting him? That was a possibility. She had friends on this end of town.  
  
Erica darted into an alley and scaled the wire fence at the back as Wraiths car skidded in front of it. She could hear his feet hitting the pavement and the sound of a gun being cocked and she flipped over the top of the fence and dropped to the pavement below. She ignored the stinging in her feet and continued to push herself harder and harder.  
  
"TRINITY!" He called down the alley, using her alias instead of her name. Erica ignored him and moved around the wall of the building, standing exposed in the back alley. Small fires in metallic barrels were set up with numerous amounts of the unlucky standing around them. Erica heard the gate crackle as something climbed over as well. She took a deep breath and moved her hand along a drain pipe on the wall. Her mind was turning, transforming the drain pipe into a ladded to the roof of the fairly short apartments. With memories of her childhood, she started to scale the walls.  
  
Erica was so sure she'd outsmarted him. In fact, she was positive that she had. A cocky smirk moved over her face and she continued upward, just as something yanked on the back of her coat.  
  
"Hey." Wraith said, yanking her off the drain pipe. He held her outwards, head facing the ground as he held tightly to the drain pipe. Erica kicked at his arm.  
  
"Let me go!" She demanded. Wraith nodded, looking at the location of the garbage below her. With a toss of his head to knock the pieces of blonde hair from his eyes he shrugged.  
  
"As you wish." He said, and let go of her.  
  
Erica didn't have time to get angry. She heard the soft garbage under her and felt the crack of the pavement against her skull. But after that, there was nothing.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
"I can't believe he dropped me." Trinity thought to herself as she pushed herself into a sitting position. She was a little weaker then she expected, but had a strong grip on the wall for support as she pulled herself upward from the bed that had confined her for so long. The blankets were pushed off her skin and she embraced the cold. Her head ached subconsciously from the dream. She still couldn't get over the fact that Wraith had actually dropped her.  
  
Morpheus opened the door again, holding a cup of water with him. Trinity brushed her small amounts of hair back, her hand touching the metal plug.  
  
"Good to see you're feeling better." He said, handing her the water. She gave a small smile and took a drink, her throat immediately soothed. Trinity nodded, pulling the cup away again.  
  
"You didn't finish." She said to him, leaning against the wall.  
  
"You were asleep." He replied calmly, sitting on the bed. "I didn't want to wake you."  
  
Trinity looked at the floor, holding the water in her hand. Morpheus looked at the wall as she waited for the rest of the story she didn't know about.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
Quinn barely recognized herself in the public washrooms near the entrance of the club. Her hair was twisted and pinned to her head. Her eyes were covered in dark eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. Her lips which were usually the colour of her white skin were darkened by a maroon lipstick. And the clothes? She was in lowrisers, a tube top, and a mesh shirt. Her arms were weighted with multiple bracelets. Why the two goths had put so much of their stuff into her appearance she'd never know. But she had to admit, it didn't look that bad. The only thing that really stood out was her split knuckles, but she had ripped off a piece of her sweater and tied it around them.  
  
"Well, what do you think?" The girl who had been on the right asked. She called herself Orion. The other, had introduced herself as Leo. Quinn didn't question their names, she just went with it.  
  
"It's cool." She replied, watching them load the extra suff back into the purse. They grinned, Orion pulling her bag back over her shoulder. Quinn turned from the mirror, looking at the two.  
  
"Merv is going to be impressed." Leo mentioned, fixing the buckles on her boot.  
  
"Merv?" Quinn asked.  
  
"Merv. The guy who owns the club." Orion replied. Quinn nodded softly. "Come on, you'll like him." They lead her out of the washroom and into the parking garage. Quinn didn't notice the door behind her disappear as they walked to the bouncers in front of a second door not far off. There was no line up and nobody waiting to get inside. Quinn didn't like the idea from the beginning, but she should be entitled to do something like this. Erica did heroin. And she was going to a club, five years too young. She shrugged it off, and walked with the two others like she belonged.  
  
The bouncer nodded at the two, but stopped Quinn. Leo put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Relax, she's with us." He hesitated, looking her over again and then nodded, allowing her to follow the other two inside. Quinn gave a small look behind her, watching the bouncers whisper amongst themselves.  
  
She wasn't liking this idea any more. At all.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
The turqouise door at the end of the parking lot opened to a long hallway. the copper haired guide allowed Morpheus and his companion Winter to walk out and into the open.  
  
"Just go straight down there, and the bouncers will let you inside."  
  
"And you're sure about this?" Winter asked coldly. The Guide nodded, sure of herself.  
  
"The Merovingian is expecting you." She assured them, closing the door. Winter crossed her arms, sighing deeply as she looked at their destination.  
  
"I can't believe we're going to Hel." She stated with anger in her voice. Morpheus crossed his arms behind his back, feeling the guns at his side as he did so. She shook out her long blonde hair and sighed deeply.  
  
"Relax, Winter." He said, making a small glance at her. "With luck, this will go smoothly."  
  
"You were the one who taught me never to believe in luck." She replied, dropping her arms to her sides and holding her head up high as she and her mentor walked to the doors of the club. The bouncers didn't look too happy to see them, but they moved aside for the two anyways without an order. Winter shot them glances laced in ice as she moved. The door opened and they were in an elevator, moving downward.  
  
"Alright, so she was right." Winter spat, a little unnerved. "And she didn't lead us into a trap."  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure of that." Morpheus replied, making Winter look over at him. "Let's just hope Wraith has found Trinity."  
  
"With our luck he's probably killed her."  
  
"I thought you didn't believe in luck?" The elevator doors opened and the two walked out into the foyer. The coat girl was at the back, smoking a cigarette with her slender legs crossed.  
  
"Merv's expecting you. In the club." She pointed at the door on her left. Winter stared at her with a cold glance. Morpheus nodded.  
  
"Thank you." He said, walking to the door. Winter followed closely, eyes trained on the coat girl with a look of pure hate. The coat girl stuck up her middle finger, causing Winter to reach for her gun. Morpheus snatched her wrist nonchalantly, keeping her at bay with his crunching grip. Winter watched the coat girl as she was walked with Morpheus into the next room.  
  
"Winter, remember what I told you when I first unplugged you?" Winter sighed deeply and nodded, not forgetting the damage she had caused in the Agent program. "Keep remembering that. Or I will be forced to do something twice as cruel."  
  
"Is that a threat Captain?"  
  
"I never threaten." He replied quickly. As they walked into the club he drew closer and whispered. "I only promise."  
  
Quinn was at her table doing nothing. Leo and Orion had gone after twin albinos with long dreadlocks a moment ago, promising that they'd be back in a minute. A minute had come and gone, and the fourteen year old was beginning to think that maybe she should just leave.  
  
The bartender stopped by, holding a martini glass in one hand and set it in front of her. Quinn looked at him strangely. He drew a little closer and spoke. "A gift from the Merovingian." The fourteen year old still didn't understand, but the bartender moved back to the bar, fixing his spiked mohawk a little. She looked around, seeing the balcony over the club and a man glancing down at her while drinking his own. He lifted the glass at her and Quinn got up and moved from the table. She was determined to leave now.  
  
Winter glanced around the room, remembering distinctly the girl's code. She also had to look for someone with a split set of knuckles.  
  
There was one girl getting pushed up the stairs by some heavily armed bounces. She lifted a slender eyebrow and looked at her mentor, who was also pushing for that direction. The nodded and moved after them, Winter's hand already on her gun as they pushed their way through the dancers.  
  
"Ahhh...it appears as if I have finally captured the younger sister of the beautiful Trinity." The man in the chair said, lifting his drink back to his lips. His entourage included a beautifully dressed woman on the couch next to him, and a variety of other leather clad harems with their own masters behind and around the small balcony. His voice was heavily doused in a throaty spanish accent, although his appearance suggested otherwise. "Apenas tan hermoso como su hermana más vieja. Cómo asombrando que ellos son casi gemelos. (Just as beautiful as her older sister. It is amazing how they are almost twins)" The albinos in the back lifted cigars to their lips. "I apologize about your friends, but they had to return to their jobs. Tales personas tontas que soy forzado a trabajar con. Soy horrorizado. (Such silly people I am forced to work with. I am appalled)."  
  
"What do you want with me?" She asked quietly, her eyes showing no fear as the glints of gun barrels shone from the men surrounding the room. "Or do I have to ask in Spanish to get an answer? ¿Qué quiere usted conmigo? (What do you want with me?)"  
  
"It is a simple game of cause and effect." He said, taking another drink. "You are the cause. Your sister and her new friend Morpheus are the effect." The woman at his side seemed annoyed, half ready to murder the man with the way he was babbling about cause and effect.  
  
"They wouldn't follow me." Quinn replied, so sure that her sister would rather leave her to rot then do anything to save her.  
  
The sound of a gun going off anf hitting the ceiling was enough to make the music stop and several people below scream. All at once there were guns trained on Quinn from every direction, and their fingers were on the trigger.  
  
"And here is the mighty Morpheus now." He said loudly, looking down below at the man and woman standing in the center of the club, guns trained on the people around them. "And he has brought the marvelous Winter with him. I am shocked! I was expecting you to bring the lovely Trinity, but it seems as though I must settle with the miniature version tonight."  
  
"Hand over the kid, Merv." Winter said loudly from the crowd, guns moving quickly to make sure everyone stayed back. "She doesn't mean anything."  
  
"But she does mean something, obviously, otherwise you would not have come to her rescue." Winter aimed her gun at him, getting several nasty looking weapons trained on her from the balcony. Morpheus picked up where she left off, not wanting to get themselves killed.  
  
"We would like to speak with you." Morpheus said. "That is all."  
  
The Merovingian gave a mocked impression of 'the thinker', looking over Quinn as her body moved with the green code. He finally shrugged.  
  
"Why not?" He said, and Winter glanced at Morpheus. This was only going to get harder.  
  
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Trinity looked at Morpheus, holding the empty cup in her hand gently as she tilted her head back. She still felt very tired, although she had been sleeping for longer then she had realized. The Captain seemed lost in his memories. Trinity said nothing. She knew he enjoyed them. Morpheus had to have been a father in his life. He had to have children. And she knew his children more then likely mimicked those of his crewmembers and the people he unplugged.  
  
There was a soft knock on the door, and the blonde head of Winter came into view. Her hair was fairly long now, and shave around her plug so it didn't get in the way.  
  
"We're just reaching broadcast depth." She said, looking at Trinity with her brown eyes. "How are you doing?"  
  
"Better." Trinity replied. "You're going in?" Winter nodded, looking at Morpheus who nodded as well, getting up. The black haired woman was about to stand as well, but the captain stopped her.  
  
"Save that energy for another time, Trinity." He said to her calmly. "Just get some sleep and get your strength back." Trinity nodded, more with the fact that she wasn't ready to fight back just yet. Morpheus and Winter left, leaving her alone with her memories. She sighed deeply, moving off the bed and testing her legs. They were shaky, but she fought against it with a growing hatred for her new weakness. The sounds of Morpheus and Winter talking to one another in the Core were heard with her straining ears. What were they doing at broadcast depth? Were they recruiting again? She didn't know.  
  
Lazily she wandered around the small cabin, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she thought back again. Her back hit the cabin wall and Trinity sank to the floor, curled up like a child. She buried her head in her arms and continued to remember.  
  
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Erica tried to move her hands but found them tied behind her back and sandwiched between her back and the seat. She gave a muffled cry out as she tried to force herself free but she was gagged as wall. The whole ordeal caused her eyes to open quickly and looked around.  
  
"Well, nice to see you're back." Wraith said as he pulled the shirt up and over her abdomen. Erica groaned again, trying to kick with her legs but found her ankles tied as well. That bastard thought of everything, she stared at him with her lips tightened in anger around the cloth tied at her mouth. "Believe me, I was against the gag too but if you screamed and the cops showed up, I would have had to clobber you again."  
  
"Ooo astar!" Erica was afraid that without the use of her tongue, every curse she tried on his would fail miserably. Wraith shook his head as she continued to struggle with his well tied knot. She kicked herself but the seatbelt caught her and kept her in place. The throb in her head was subsiding and she continued to try and free herself.  
  
"Yeah, you too, bitch." He said, pulling a rather eerie looking contraption from the floor of the car. Erica pulled on her wrists harder as Wraith took a gun out of his holster and pointed it at her temple. "Relax. This is going to hurt like hell."  
  
There was a snap as the machine was pinned to her stomach. Erica fainted again.  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
I know the Merovingian loves French, but this is a prequel and he mentioned sampling every language. This was his Spanish phase.  
  
Well, that was one hell of an amount of Quinn. Next chapter will include a lot more Trinity. Also, I wanted to know who would like to see Quinn unplugged.  
  
Review please! 


	7. This Pain is Just Too Real

Emerald03: I'm glad you enjoyed the Merovingian. He's the coolest character in Reloaded! Thank you for your opinions on what is being dubbed, 'The Quinn Question' and even though my decision is still not made, hopefully it will be the proper ending.

Alocin: That's my biggest problem with Quinn is that she's probably going to have to die, or just never be unplugged. Who knows. I'll try and make the ending balance the two out. (shrugs).

Protectress of Dalidon: I have to agree, Wraith is a dingbat. But I love him. I really do. I'm not sure if they unplug family. It would be a bit of a twist, just what happens to Quinn afterwards? Will she become the new 'Dawn' of the Matrix (refer to Buffy, when stupid Michelle Trachtenburg was added)? 

THANK YOU PEOPLE SO MUCH!

Disclaimer: By now, you know that the characters all belong to the Wachowski's (besides Quinn, and Miranda).

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Chapter 7: This Pain is Just Too Real

Erica shook her head to clear it and lifted her limp neck upwards, looking out the windshield at the parking garage outside. She chewed on the stale gag in her mouth, trying to push it with her tongue but found it too tight. _That bastard,_ she thought, pulling on her wrists again as she tried to free herself. She pounded herself against the seat, trying to break the bonds that held her. The eighteen year old groaned, biting down hard as she pulled her hand out from the ropes. The sweat and blood build-up allowed it to finally slip free. She grabbed the gag and ripped it from her mouth before frantically untying her legs and opened the door. Shakily, she rose, her stomach muscles sore from whatever Wraith had done to her before she fainted.

The door in front of the car was deserted, the two bodies of unconscious bouncers lying in front of it. As she approached she saw the exit wounds in their back, blood splattering the door itself. Erica rubbed her wrists, just as the door opened and Quinn ran out, nearly tackling into her sister. The young girl had a gun in her hands and nearly shot a hole between her sister's ears. Erica gaped as Quinn caught her breath.

"Quinn?" She demanded. Her younger sister lowered the weapon and caught her breath.

"There is no time to explain." The fourteen year old said, holding up a ring of keys. "Come on. We have to go. Now."

Erica didn't protest as the two bolted back to Wraith's car and both went for the driver's seat door. Quinn got in first, sliding herself in front of the wheel and starting the car.

"Get out of there Quinn."

"There's no time!" Her fourteen year old sister shouted. Erica suppressed the urge to snatch her bratty sister out of the driver's seat and throw her into the back, but as the door suddenly keeled from a gunshot, Erica changed her mind and hopped into the back seat. Her sister pounded the gas pedal and swerved outside the door as Wraith, Morpheus and a unknown woman exited. Wraith looked at Quinn in the seat of his car.

"Get out of there, kid." Quinn's eyes were stained with poison. Erica leaned into the front, prepared to shout something nasty at him, but was interrupted by Morpheus.

"This is not the time." He said, getting into the passenger seat. Wraith groaned, getting into the back with the woman and sat apart from Erica. She stuck her middle finger up at him. He sneered at her, just as Quinn shifted into drive and took off, her foot hitting the floor. She nearly hit several parked cars and heard Wraith gasp.

"Careful!"

Quinn grasped the gun she had tucked into the back of her pants and fired a adrenaline induced warning shot that narrowly missed the woman's head. Morpheus took the gun from her after that.

"Focus on the road." He commanded, and spitefully, Quinn pounded on the pedal, steering much better this time. Morpheus turned. "And Wraith. I will not miss." He seemed too sure of himself with those words, she thought. Erica watched as the wise captain turned back, Quinn driving faster and faster out of the parking garage the same way she had arrived. The blonde haired Australian sighed deeply, the woman's head held high as she glanced at him. 

"What did you do to me?" Erica demanded. Wraith didn't reply, leaning his head into the window. The eighteen year old tapped him, causing his lightning fast reflexes to react with a tight grip on her wrist. 

It was a chain reaction. The second he touched her Erica was up on her feet and punched him across the cheek. Quinn opened her eyes wide in the rear view mirror as her sister engaged in a private punching match with Wraith. Small interventions were made from the woman and Morpheus, until Erica was back in her seat and the two had guns trained upon them from the woman. The two glared at one another, blood moving down Erica's cheek from the bullet that had moved there not long ago. Morpheus glared at his crewmember, staring at him with cold and frozen eyes, warning him that if he and Erica tried again something horrible would happen. 

Quinn changed lanes cautiously, still unsure of how to behave behind the wheel of the car. She was moving into the freeway, and was very closer to it. Morpheus shook his head.

"Move back." He said. Quinn glanced at him, changing back sloppily and nearly driving the car into another. There was honks as he explained himself. "There are too many people on the freeway. It's suicide." The fourteen year old was shaking, her teeth chattering. Erica watched her, dressed in darkness, watching the road. Her eyes were moving frantically as she tried to figure out where to go. Morpheus pointed at the exit off the highway and Quinn swerved clumsily, moving into it unscathed.

"God damn it!" Wraith shouted. "You're going to kill us." Quinn bit her lips together and tightened her fingers on the wheel, stomping on the brake so hard the air bags came out and threw the whole car forward. She grabbed the keys from the ignition and got out of the car.

"Crap." Erica said, opening her door and running after Quinn. Wraith received another look from Morpheus as Quinn traipsed off the road and onto the nearby property.

"Quinn!" Erica shouted loudly. Her sister ignored her. "Quinn stop!" The fourteen year old turned, at a loss for words. The eighteen year old held out her hands. "Look, if you're not coming then give me the keys." Quinn did nothing. Erica got angrier and drew closer. "Give me the god damn keys!"

The fourteen year old threw them over her sister and the car, where they landed softly in the grass. Erica gaped, watching their means of escape disappear. Quinn turned again, walking away. The older of the two grabbed the younger one.

"You bitch!" Erica said loudly, flipping her sister around. Quinn's lips pursed in anger as she pulled away. "You selfish bitch! Why the fuck would you do that, huh?! Huh?" Her younger sister pulled away, Erica staring at her in disbelief. Quinn's eyes were twitching and she bit her tongue, stopping her tears.

Neither of them had anything to say. The car behind them came back to life thanks to a quick move from Wraith, who had hot wired the car quickly. He opened the window.

"Anyone who's coming, better come now." He said loudly. Morpheus looked at the two, begging Erica to come. The older of the two strayed backwards, while Quinn stood on the side of the road. She turned away, moving in the opposite direction. Erica left herself on the side of the road. She moved back to the car as Trinity.

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Trinity was curled up on the floor, looking across the metal grate with sadness in her eyes. She didn't know how long she had been crying. She had no idea how long she had simply just laid there and stared off into nothing, waiting for her strength to come back and allow her to get back to her normal life. She pushed herself weakly back to her small bed and leaned on the edge, feeling almost nauseous again. Slowly, she breathed deeply, calming her nerves and allowing her to crawl back onto the bed without vomiting. She lay back on her pillows. 

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Erica had only attempted suicide once, when she was sixteen. The beauty of the blade she had chosen for the deed astounded her momentarily, making her hesitate before slashing her flesh. The blood ran around the blade, dripping onto her hardwood floor and down her shirt as she slashed the other wrist. The serrated edge of the knife was covered in small pieces of skin and stained in her red blood.

She lay back on the floor, feeling her eyes close as the puddles of blood around her grew under her arms. It felt beautiful. Almost like a drug, but so much that she did not want to turn back. She was enjoying the surrender, the bliss of it, listening to the stairs creak. Her blue-grey eyes slid closed, and all she could hear was her heart thumping.

Thump, thump…

The sound of her door opening slowly, and cautious footsteps across the floor.

Thump, thump…

The flash of a camera, the hiss of the Polaroid as it fell from the camera to the ground.

Thump…

The sound of another picture.

Thump…

The sound of the phone…

Thump…

The sound of the door closing again.

Thu…

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Trinity snapped awake again and sat up immediately, grasping her chest tightly as the sounds of her own heart echoed in her ears. She took in a shaking breath, trying hard to calm herself as the whole dream shocked her to the bone.

_It wasn't real. It was just the Matrix telling your mind that it was real. None of it really happened._

The warrior lay back again, taking in a deep breath and shivered lightly as she sat up once more. She grabbed her sweater off the floor, pulling it on over her bare skin and rubbed her arms with her hands. Sitting there, on her bed with her head in her hands gave her little comfort, especially with the worsening dreams. All she could see was that blood, her sister's vivid eyes in the air, flashing pictures and capturing the moments of her sister's death with a huge fascination. And then when she left her there on the road, prepared to walk off without looking back. Everything was like it was happening to her again and again, like the knife that had cut her wrists just kept cutting.

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The woman had called herself Winter, and they said nothing else on the matter while Morpheus made arrangements with the 'operator' on the phone. Trinity didn't feel like looking back, but the nagging sound of Erica forced her to see the silhouette of her sister shrinking into the distance. The captain had arranged for a taxi, wanting to apologize, but said they had no time to lose.

Wraith was driving again, glancing back at Trinity anxiously as if she were about to explode. She glared at him.

"What?" She asked, demanded rather. Wraith glanced back once more. Morpheus shot him a glance for him to relax. Trinity waited for a reply. None came. "What?" She demanded a little more sharply. The driver looked back at the road.

"All your life you have feared a system, Trinity." Morpheus said, holding the gun. "As long as anyone is connected to that system, they are an enemy." He made a special look at Quinn. Trinity found herself staring at the disappeared silhouette.

"Who were those men?" She asked.

"Sentient programs." Winter said. "Believe me it makes a hell of a lot more sense after the red pill." Trinity looked back at Morpheus, who took out the pills once more. 

"Once again. There is no turning back after this moment." 

Trinity reached forward and took the red pill without hesitation. She glanced once more over her shoulder, and Wraith pulled into a deserted road. Small smiles came on the faces of everyone in the car as she swallowed hard. The pill tasted like tin foil.

"Follow me." He said as the car came to stop.

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Thump, thump….thump, thump…

The mirror was coming back together, creating a solid face instead of a cracked one. It moved up her fingers, coating her in a silvery colour of the mirror.

Thump, thump…

"You're convinced that this world is a dream world…" His voice. It threaded through her consciousness as she blinked against the unforgiving fluid surrounding her body.

Thump, thump…

"It's time to wake up, Trinity." 

"Wake up with me, Erica." Quinn's whispering. Somewhere, far off now in her memory. Trinity reached upward, the dim lights peeking through the gel she was suspended in. She finally got upward, breaking through the curdled top and broke free, trying to breathe in.

She was suffocating. She couldn't breathe.

She frantically grabbed her mouth, yanking the tube out of her mouth so harshly it cut her lips and throat. Trinity gagged, vomiting up basically nothing down the edge of the pod besides bile. She blinked. What she saw couldn't be true.

Her heart rate peaked, pounding under her chest in a hum instead of distinct pounds. There were millions of pods over millions of columns of darkness. She stared off, breathing heavily as she leaned over the pod lifelessly. Everything was shaking. She hugged herself slowly, mesmerized by the red lit pods and machines floating around her. 

Something was running from her arm. She could follow it with her fingers. Trinity was certain she fainted when she caught sight of it. 

The tubes. Each connected to her body. Over her arms, down her back, in her legs. Her head fell back, causing a build up of tubes to make her reach for her head in pain. The socket on the back of her scalp alarmed her under her fingers. She didn't have any hair. Just a massive, metallic tube that move between her fingers.

Trinity fell back in the pod and nearly drowned. She gasped on the gel, choking and finally bringing herself back to the edge of the pod. A red eye stared at her, attached to a spider-like machine that recorded her movement. There was a snap as it grabbed her throat and tightened.

_Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._

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I will include:

1) What happened when the Merovingian and Morpheus 'talked'.

2) How Quinn became armed and not-so-dangerous.

Cool Matrix Fact: The room 303 was used twice in the movie-once at the beginning when Trinity was in the room and kicking ass with the cops, and it is also the Oracle's apartment number.


	8. There's Just Too Much That Time Cannot E...

Protectress of Dalidon: That was actually one of my original ideas for the small showdown they had on the driveway, but I didn't think that Agents would make that type of mistake. Good suggestion, though! Also, I hope to get some other characters in next chapter, especially Tank because I love him.

Centaur: Thank you very much for your criticism, I hope I have fixed the problem in this chapter. I couldn't think of any other way to identify with either of them, since I basically made them twins and I found it too repetitive if I kept saying their names. Thank you very much for your review!

Emerald3: AWWW! I hope you're feeling better. Don't eat too much candy because it lowers your immune system (slips her a cookie discretely). Thank you! (hugs back).

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I am so happy now!

Disclaimer: It belongs to the Wachowski's. That is all. Please, do not sue me.

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Chapter 8: There's Just Too Much That Time Cannot Erase

Dreams within dreams…the time passed quickly. So quickly that while she lay under the harsh glow of fluorescent lighting, wondering what the needles were doing under her skin she could only think. She could only dream. 

Words couldn't describe what she saw. The past became the future and the future became the past in some cruel effort to keep her disoriented and praying that someday it would make sense. Her dreams were cloudy, fogged over with false details and the lies she'd been living under.

Someone was speaking. Trinity didn't necessarily care who. It hurt too much to open her eyes even a little bit. The words were slow moving, meant so she could comprehend them somehow. But they faded away as well. They just didn't mean anything anymore. 

She dreamt she was sitting there, in her sister's bedroom. Quinn had lit incense and was kneeling on the floor. The two had nothing to the say, almost like the moment was sacred. It was Quinn who finally broke the silence, looking at her sister with a blank stare.

"Did any of it really matter?" She asked quietly, her voice solid and complete instead of choked back in her throat. Erica stared at her, their eyes meeting. She was wishing Quinn's stare would vanish entirely, leaving her alone, and she was sure that the other was wishing and begging for the same thing. The younger sister moved closer, hugging her sister and received no response. Erica couldn't bring herself to move.

"You wanted so much to wake up." Quinn said quietly, feeling her sister's palm on her head of black curls. "And now you have your wish." Erica breathed in, listening to her sister speak with the equivalence of Morpheus. There was a pause as they sat there, and Quinn turned her head, whispering in Erica's ear.

"But…Erica, you're still dreaming."

Erica separated from her sister, watching the eyes of ice and the frozen soul staring back at her. Quinn's eyelids lowered, her misty eye shadow making her seem almost divine in the way she sat. 

"Wake up." She commanded.

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"Trinity?" She jerked a little, blinking with unseeing eyes as she looked to the door. Wraith peered inside, checking on her. The Australian gave a flippant grin, seeing her wake up. He stepped inside slowly, dropping on the edge of the bed and gave her a small shake. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah." She said groggily, getting herself propped up on one arm. The man smiled again, showing off his boyish nature for a second time. Inside the Matrix, he came off as some sort of pompous, angry, macho brat. Outside, he was actually kind of charming.

__

"Morpheus said you should try to eat something." He said, pulling a container of mush she hadn't noticed was hidden behind his back. She gave a small grin, hardly amused. She could feel her stomach doing flip-flops again. She took it from him, setting it on the floor. "Yeah. I agree. It does look like vomit."

"Wraith?" She asked him in her quiet voice, pondering how she would go about the whole questioning. He lifted an eyebrow. "What happened with the Merovingian?" He gave a small laugh, looking at her eyes that were glazed over with sleep. He sighed deeply.

"Well, he's a rather nice guy." Wraith began. Trinity could hear the sarcasm dripping in his voice.

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The Merovingian grinned coyly, Quinn shying away from him nervously as she sensed all the eyes fall upon her. She clenched her fist, blood falling to the floor and was absorbed by the solid stone beneath her feet. She heard the heavy footsteps of the man and his female counterpart climbing the stairs. She listened instead of watched, trusting her artist's eyes to catch the details of this place. The rest of her senses focused on her apparent rescuers, although she knew it was more out of pity for her then anything else.

It always was pity with her. There was never any compassion behind her sister's actions. They all just felt sorry for her because she was the orphan child of a whore and a child abuser and the sister of a drug addict. She came off so strong outwardly, but everyone seemed to know she was useless and couldn't keep out of trouble.

This Morpheus and his friend Winter were no different then her mother and Erica.

"Well…it seems as if my plan is successful." The Merovingian stated, smiling at his own voice. "Since we are all friends here, this is my wife, Demeter." He emphasized the woman next to him. Demeter said nothing, keeping that 'I'm nothing but a trophy wife' smirk plastered to her face. Quinn didn't like her the moment she laid eyes on her. "And now…" He picked up his drink. "What would you like to talk about?"

"We…" Morpheus began, but never finished. The sounds of the doors below opening a gunshots ringing out over the crowd caused panic to flood the upper balcony. Morpheus and Winter had guns out, but Quinn could now sense more then twenty gleaming gun barrels trained on her. Wraith stood below, holding out his weapons and making sure the crowd stopped moving. The Merovingian rolled his eyes.

"Y la raza humana que lo supuso ser más lista entonces nosotros (And the human race it supposed to be smarter then us)." He said, the two albino twins looking at the human with a mischievous gleam in their eyes. Quinn wanted to die. She would have paid any of the bystanders to pull the trigger and drag her out of her misery. "Another one of Morpheus's freedom fighters?"

Wraith didn't move. His gun was outnumbered by about five or so.

"Just give her to us, and we will leave." The Merovingian didn't even think about it.

"No." He said finally, watching Morpheus in the circle of his men. Quinn glanced over at him, hearing every word he said in Spanish. "I don't want to. I find I am actually enjoying her presence." Morpheus sighed very deeply. Quinn looked around with just her eyes, not moving her head. The sight of Wraith below, fighting. The sight of Morpheus and Winter, standing armed and dangerous. She really was useless. She couldn't even stop this attack on her account.

"Come now Morpheus." The Merovingian said, the same amount of humour in his stare. "What's her real purpose? Ella es inútil (She is useless)."

That did it. Quinn snatched the hand gun and twisted it into her hand. Morpheus and Winter shot down four threats as the small girl took aim and fired clumsily at his head.

"¡Yo no soy inútil (I'm not useless)!" They were at a stand still once more, Quinn's finger shaking on the trigger. The Merovingian said nothing, watching her with an interest that didn't seem to fade. She clenched her teeth, so close to pulling the trigger.

"Great." Wraith said with a groan that Quinn could hear from where she was standing. She steadied her grip with her other hand.

"Ahora, tenemos una elección. Todos podemos morir, el derecho ahora mismo. O usted andemos lejos y se olvida que esto sucedió jamás. Yo no estoy atemorizado morir. (Now, we have a choice. We can all die, right here and now. Or you can let us walk away and forget this ever happened. I'm not afraid to die.)" The final was said with a morbid sureness, voice not faltering as the program had seen so many do. Morpheus kept composure as the Spanish rolled off her tongue. Quinn was starting to feel thankful she had taken it as a course, now. Wraith couldn't move, still watching the scene.

The Merovingian looked at his men. The sound of their guns being holstered did not cause the three to back down at all. Quinn couldn't move, even as the threat passed. She saw Morpheus's eyes on her and she lowered the weapon slowly, her fist still tight around the barrel.

"Da las gracias por la buena vez (Thanks for the good time)." She spat as the three departed from the upstairs. They so much as stepped on the stone dance floor when the Merovingian stood up.

"KILL THEM!"

Wraith was distracted, firing angrily at the men above. Winter and Morpheus barely made it to the hallway. Quinn slid by Wraith, delaying for a moment as she went up in the elevator.

"Come on!" Winter shouted, the three taking off before the albino twins could do anything about them. The elevator doors were closed, and the sounds of footsteps were drawing nearer. Wraith fumbled in his pockets.

"What is it?" Morpheus asked. Wraith came to the realization.

"That bitch has my keys!"

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Trinity pieced it together, nodding lazily to herself. Wraith sighed deeply, trying to think of anything he missed. The black haired woman looked at the wall.

"You miss her don't you?" Wraith asked, making Trinity move her eyes back to his. He could see it right there, inside her irises that looked too much like her younger sister's.

"She wasn't real." Trinity said. "None of it was."

"Who are you trying to convince?" He asked her, making her eyes move back to the floor where the gruel was sitting. After going for a long time without food, it was starting to look appealing. Wraith tapped her waist again.

"See yah, Trin." He said, getting up and leaving the room. The woman on the bed felt her muscle twinge and she sat up, pulling the food from the floor. She detested people analyzing her that way. Morpheus never did it, he was pretty good about keeping her business simply that. But Wraith wasn't scared of her. He was afraid of Agents. But he wasn't afraid of her.

She started eating the food slowly.

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Erica was allowed to leave the hospital two days later, after some fast talking from her mother saying that she wouldn't be a harm to herself anymore. Other then that, her mother had nothing to say. She and Tom were silent on the drive home.

Erica climbed the stairs, a plastic bag in one hand with her fist clenched around it. It was filled to the brim with the clothes her 'family' had brought over, but she could tell it was all stuff from the laundry that hadn't been washed anyways. Most of it she had worn that week.

She tossed the bag across the floor. It slid to the wall, near her laundry pile for that week. None of it had been moved or touched. _I love my family. My stupid, useless family. I slit my fucking wrists and they don't even do my fucking laundry._ The bandages were still there, stitches still holding the flaps of skin. Sadistic thoughts passed through her mind of breaking the stitches 'by accident' or blame it on that brat Quinn.

_Speaking of Quinn…_ She thought, moving to the bed as she found a manila envelope lying on her pillow. Beautiful cursive made Erica's name on the cover, and it was sealed properly and neatly. Curious, she picked it up and ripped open the flap, pouring out the contents.

Polaroid pictures tumbled from within, falling to the comforter of her bed. Erica picked them up, finding maybe nine or ten in the pile. The final photo was a home developed photo, courtesy of her younger sibling's closet.

There she lay, immortalized in the pictures, lying on her floor as blood fell from her broken wrists. Erica's eyes widened, not recognizing herself. Quinn had snapped nine to ten pictures of her suicide, as if she was determined to catch a portrait of her sister's spirit. It moved like a cartoon, the pools of blood growing in some adult film on satellite TV. It was like a movie. 

The final picture was in black and white, with good reason. The pools of blood looked like a demon growing around the unconscious body. It was what Erica considered to be her final moments, watching her with devilish undertones of charcoal. 

She bit her bottom lip and felt her gut clench itself and crush her insides. She picked up the pictures frantically, tossing them back into the envelope. Angrily, she stormed down the hall to Quinn's room and opened the door, throwing the envelope inside. Her younger sister stared at her, watching her sister slam the door and storm back to her room. She looked back at her old Barbie doll lying under the red light of her desk lamp, wrists slit with artificial blood she had concocted in the kitchen.

Erica slammed her own door, breathing heavily as she lay on her bed and curled up. _DAMN HER!_ She thought. _Damn her to Hell!_ It was more out of embarrassment then fury. Erica lost herself in her thoughts, trying to figure out who she was trying to punish: Quinn for being a perceptive and bratty preteen, or herself for not even being able to commit suicide properly.

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Trinity had stopped eating. She couldn't force anything else down her throat. She looked at her wrists, half expecting the scars to linger. Instead, she realized once again that nothing in that world was really real. It was all a game of make believe, a role playing card game where the machines are playing and dealing the decks. Her analogy was so depressing she went as far to think that maybe Quinn wasn't real at all. 

"_How could we really even be called sisters?_" She asked herself angrily, still clutching the half full dish of mush. _"We were grown in the same place. That's all we have in common. Aside from a few falsified memories and pictures, Quinn was no more real then the blade I tried to take my life with."_

Trinity's thoughts lead her on a wild goose chase.

_"Then the emotions weren't real either, and I was prepared to kill for her."_

"But she was prepared to die for you. Isn't that also true?"

"But she wasn't real! She was placed there by the machines and programmed as my sister. She was programmed to share my eyes and have my hair colour. Just like she was programmed to watch me lie there and die. It was all programming!"

Trinity hit her head against the wall once, forcefully enough tot stop the obnoxious debate between the various lobes of her brain. Swiftly, she stood up and allowed her strength moments to return before walking out of the cabin.

_"It wasn't all programming."_

_"Shut up."_ Was all her mind wanted to reply.

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Next Chapter I hope to add in some other various characters on the Neb. Please, for now, review.


	9. When You Cried I'd Wipe Away All of Your...

ScullyAsTrinity: I've been writing since I was ten (six years ago) and I've been writing fan fiction since last year. Thank you very much for your offer as a Beta, I really appreciate it. I'm not sure about a beta as of yet, but I will definitely think about it. Thanks for all your help! Cookie?

Protectress of Dalidon: Thank you so much for reviewing every chapter! I added some Tank into this chapter, and I'm still unsure about adding in anyone else yet. Probably some Apoc and Switch, but not Cypher just yet.

Emerald3: Silly me! I meant to put in the note about Demeter. I couldn't see him being married to Persephone for that long (I would have killed her, but that's just me), so I gave him another wife. The name itself is from mythology, and Demeter was Persephone's mother. Silly me! (whacks head into wall). I'm very happy to hear you're feeling better!

THANK YOU! 

Disclaimer: Wachowski's. It's all them. 

Author's Note: This chapter has some sexual themes in it. That scene in particular may not be suitable for young readers. It is rated R.

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Chapter 9: When You Cried I'd Wipe Away All Of Your Tears

Trinity wandered through the darkened ship. She had no idea of how late it was, but she could tell by the closed doors and the small halogen lights flickering on the floor it was sometime after night. She assumed possibly late evening, but she really had no idea, and assumptions weren't safe on that particular ship. 

Her feet made barely no sound on the metal grate floor. She held her body rigid as a shiver passed through her, moving to the ladder and climbing up slowly, allowing her legs to regain a lot of their strength.

The main deck was warmer then the ship, usually kept at a standard 65 degrees or so. It was darker up here as well, the only real light coming from the green glow of Tanks computer screen by the Core. The 'genuine' child of Zion hovered around the screen, making last minute checks of the system and drinking Dozer's disgusting drink as he did so. He turned suddenly, alerted by her presence and gave a small jump.

"Jesus Christ." He said, breathing heavily. Trinity was drawn a little aback.

"Sorry." She whispered, making the operator breathe a little more slowly. He set the jug on the floor and cracked his neck.

"Nice to see you're feeling better." He said, moving back to his checks of the system. He looked through the streets of China Town. "You were pretty bad when you got back."

"So I've heard." She replied quietly, moving behind him. "What's going on?"

"Whole lot of nothing." He replied, shrugging a little as he leaned back. Her eyes adjusted to the code, seeing the familiar green shapes dripping like raindrops from the top of the screen. "A little too quiet if you ask me." Tank glanced in her direction before looking back at the screen. Trinity sighed deeply. "What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep." She replied silently. "You?"

"I don't like sleeping. I miss too much." Tank replied, getting a different view of the city. He was in the nice division now, looking down the street of near identical houses. "God damn. I wish I could go in with you guys." He looked longingly at the screen. Trinity shook her head.

"No, you don't." She said, staring at the code. "You're lucky. Believe me." Trinity looked at him for a moment. He was still watching the screen. "What's Zion like?" The subject change seemed to be for the better. Tank always looked happier when he talked about home.

"It's home." He said with a sigh. He made a special look at her. "Maybe you'll see it, if you live long enough." Trinity's lips curved. "You'd like it. There's no Agents, no shit for food…just anal councillors who want to control you. Other then that…it's amazing." Tank looked back at the screen as Trinity brushed her fingers through her short hair.

"What about you?" He asked, causing her to look back at him. "What was your home like?"

Trinity tried to think of the best response to that. She breathed heavily, not knowing what to say. 

"It wasn't real." She replied bluntly. Tank seemed a little hurt she wouldn't tell him anything, but typed in a few more commands on the keyboard, getting another angle on the houses he was looking at. He smiled at the screen.

"What?" Trinity asked.

"Runaways." He said, Trinity looking at the screen at the figure he was seeing. "Kids who sneak out. Pretty good entertainment." 

The woman stared closer at the screen, looking at the figure running out of her bedroom window and down the tree. Why did that situation seem so familiar? She pushed her memories back in her head, as she recognized the girl running into the street.

"What is it?" Tank asked. Trinity watched the head of black curls disappear into the code. 

"Nothing." She replied. "Nothing at all." She assured herself.

************************************************************************

The sounds of her mother and Tom's love making penetrated the walls without remorse for Erica's attempts at sleep. She groaned, turning over again as her mother let out another cry of passion, the headboard slamming against the wall with so much force she was afraid they might break through it. Her wrists hurt from her muscles pushing the pillow tighter to her head.

At first they never did this. It was quiet for the first month. Small make out sessions in the pantry and closets, sometimes the empty hallways. Then he started eating dinner with them, the four seated at the table as they imitated some sort of sitcom family. Quinn was poking at her broccoli with mild interest in the love fest at the other end of the table. Erica was nauseous just thinking about that man touching her mother. She pretended not to notice Tom's hand on her mother's bare thigh. She tried to look away as his lips travelled over her neck and lips. And she tried not to gag when they actually used their tongues.

Quinn had sketched what she imagined it to be like. It was fascination for her, staring at the piece of charcoal clamped between her fingers as she sketched the whole ordeal. Erica just prayed they could bang on her wall for a while, and then see how fascinated she was with it.

Her mother's shouts were the last straw. She kicked off the blankets and stormed out of her room, going straight down the stairs and into the kitchen.

The oven light was on. Quinn sat up at the counter with her sketchbook in front of her, chewing on pieces of harshly cut granny smith apple and a scented candle burning in front of her. Erica moved silently inside, folding her arms slowly. The joint was still stiff from the cast that had been removed only a week ago. 

The two sisters said nothing, the only sound being made was Erica's footsteps to the fridge and Quinn's charcoal moving over the page. The older sister grabbed a bottle of water, opening it and chugging down half it's contents as she slammed the fridge door with her foot.

"Are they having sex?" Quinn asked, making Erica nod as she drank. She pulled the bottle from her lips and hopped up on the counter near her sister, glancing at the picture. It was her mother as a rotting corpse.

"Sounds gross." She added, shading in the gore around the open wounds. Small razorblades were scattered on the ground in the picture. "Why do they do it?"

"It's just something grown ups do." Erica added, holding the bottle between her legs as she watched her sister draw. She took another drink of water.

"Is it fun?" Quinn asked. He r sister nearly choked.

"No. It's disgusting." Erica said, almost like she was reprimanding Quinn. The younger scribbled harder on the picture, making almost realistic blood dripping from the open slashes. "Who killed her?" The older of the asked, looking over her shoulder. Quinn didn't have to think. She answered with no hesitation.

"I did."

Erica looked at her sister strangely. She took another drink of water.

"Get to bed." Erica ordered softly, hopping off the counter. Quinn picked up another piece of apple and scribbled another cut on her mother's body. 

The bed struck the wall again. Erica opted not to go in that direction. She walked into the living room and watched TV.

************************************************************************

"Trin?" She was brought out of the memory and looked at Tank. He gazed at her, concerned from her phase out of reality. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She said, nodding. She tried to convince herself she really was. Tank looked back at the screen. "Hey. Can you run a search of the system for me?"

"Depends who you're trying to find." He said, his hands looming over the keyboard. "Hackers are tougher then civilians."

"She's a civilian." Trinity replied. "Quinn Parker."

"Old friend?" He asked as he typed in the name. She sighed and nodded slowly, watching the screen. "You have anything else? Physical description? Address?"

"New York." Trinity said, trying to remember. It was aggravating to remember faces, even if you had woken up to them for your entire life. "Black hair. Blue eyes. Petite. She'd be…" Trinity couldn't remember how long it had been. "Fourteen, almost fifteen."

Tank nodded, running the search program. The green code still fell, the new subdivision coming into view. He moved his fingers fast, scanning through the names that popped up.

"I think I've found her." He said, pointing at the screen. It was encoded, but Trinity could still make out the photograph. It was the school photograph, the graduation from junior high. She'd seen that picture so many times. Her aunt had put it on the fridge. 

"That her?" He asked. Trinity nodded, still looking at the screen. Tank didn't have anything to say, noticing he was probably on hostile ground with her. "She's fifteen now." _My God,_ Trinity thought. Her birthday had to have been…

A day or two after she left. December 22. 

"Where does she live now?" Trinity asked. Tank looked through the files, finding her list of residency.

"New York. Nice neighbourhood." He said, leaning back in the chair. "With a foster family. Her dad can't be reached and her mom's dead. And her sister…" He looked at the information about her family. "Is missing. No case reports or anything."

Trinity started to feel nauseous. She felt like she was looking at the pictures again, watching herself die over and over as she stared at the screen. It made her want to vomit, but she resisted the urge. 

"Can you get a live feed?" She asked, and Tank nodded, looking up at the screen not far from the one the information was posted. The code flickered and changed, showing a darkened street. The girl was walking at a quickened pace, hands in pockets. Trinity exhaled heavily, watching the sight again like she was right there.

Quinn hadn't changed much. She was still rather tiny with black curls that had grown out and become smooth waves now. But staring at her was no longer like staring at a mirror. There were now distinct differences between she and her older sister.

Trinity stood back up and patted Tank on the shoulder. 

"Thanks." She said quietly, feeling her stomach hurt again. He nodded and shrugged, going back to final checks of his systems. 

"See yah Trin." He said, watching her leave before starting to close down the programs.

************************************************************************

She composed herself as she sank on her bed. Trinity felt like someone was punching her in the gut repeatedly, although unlike in training, she was unable to punch this force back. It just kept happening, her organs choking up.

_STOP IT!_ She scolded herself. _It's nothing. It's not real. _

_"Who are you trying to convince?"_ Wraith's voice spoke clearly. Trinity breathed heavily, leaning against the wall and folding her knees into her body. _God damn him. Stupid prick. Thinks he knows everything about me. Nobody does! He doesn't know shit about me!_

She wanted to inject herself with heroin or sniff a line again. She wanted that state of peacefulness again. That emotionless void she could lock herself in and pretend that Mom wasn't being hit by Dad, that Quinn wasn't trying to die for her sister, that Miranda wasn't being such a bitch, and that she was in control of something.

Trinity felt her eyes burn. 

************************************************************************

Someone knocked at the door. Trinity jerked awake a little, stretching out her stiff legs as the joints cracked. The squeak of the door and Wraith stuck his head in.

"Morning." He said. "Better get up because Morpheus said today's the day."

That peaked her curiosity, especially while she was half asleep and un showered.

"For what?" She asked. Wraith opened the door a little more.

"To see the Oracle." 

Trinity sighed. She got off the bed and followed Wraith to the Core.

************************************************************************

She had read that appearances could be deceiving somewhere, but she couldn't remember the exact location or time of it. Wherever it was, Trinity was unprepared to step inside the kitchen of the notorious Oracle and find her the way she was.

From the few descriptions she had received from the crew made the Oracle out to be some divine being in a massive temple with priestesses and attendants. The priestesses had existed, that was one thing she was sure of. But she didn't expect the Oracle to be the short , dark skinned woman in the kitchen with odd rimmed glasses. Her hair was dark and curly, frizzing out in every direction. 

Trinity didn't say anything.

"Not what you expected, is it?" She asked, moving the glasses down her nose a little bit. Trinity stood composed at the door. "But it never is, is it?" 

"You're the Oracle?" She asked, but it was more of a statement for her to believe what she was seeing. The woman nodded, moving her hand across the table and picked up her box of cigarettes. Trinity's attuned senses picked up everything. The aroma of cookies baking mixed with cigarette smoke. Somehow, it wasn't a horrible scent.

"That's a little too obvious." She replied, pulling a cigarette from the box and placing it at her lips. She lit a match and raised the flame to the tip. When it was removed, she broke the silence. "Sit down. Let's talk."

Trinity didn't move. _Was this some kind of cruel joke?_

"Come on. I don't bite." The Oracle puffed on her cigarette, the smoke hanging over them and hovering around the kitchen light. Trinity finally pulled out the chair and slid into it as comfortably as she could in her leather gear. 

"Did you know I was going to do that?" She asked, watching the Oracle's every move. The short woman smiled and gave a small laugh.

"How much of an Oracle would I be if I didn't?"

"What if I didn't sit down?"

"That would have been your choice." The prophetess said in her defence, smoking again. "Cigarette?"

"What do you think I'm going to say?" Trinity answered her offer with a question, testing her. She wasn't convinced this woman was who she claimed to be.

"Well, that's your choice as well." She replied, putting the box back down on the table. "But life's too damn short to waste thinking about whether or not I can predict your choices. And I know you see it the same way."

"What if I were to take a cigarette right now?" She asked.

"There's too many things in this world to question." The Oracle stated, tapping the cigarette ash into the ashtray. "You either want a cigarette or you don't. Just like you either want to hear what I'm about to tell you or you don't."

"Why do people call you the Oracle?" Trinity asked sternly, looking at her with her powerful stare. The Oracle shrugged, pouting her bottom lip a little.

"People are either afraid of the things they don't understand or amazed by them. It just so happens that people were amazed in my case and gave me that name." She said, still smoking on her cigarette. Trinity exhaled deeply, her muscles tensing. The Oracle shook her head. "I know, I know. You don't believe all this bullshit. It's all just a load of crap to you and you want no part of it. I've heard it all before, trust me." Trinity looked back at the Oracle, lifting her eyes from the table as she stared through the dark sunglasses. 

"Do you know why Morpheus brought you here?" She asked. Trinity didn't move. The Oracle leaned forward. "Doesn't matter anyway. What does matter is the answer to his question. You're not the One."

Trinity looked at the Oracle, trying to find the purpose behind her last phrase. She had known she wasn't the One. Wraith had filled her in on a few details and Tank told her some information, but no one had been really helpful about it. And now, here she was, being told the very news she had in some way wanted to hear.

"You look more relieved then you should. Maybe that's a good thing." Trinity tilted her head a little. "What's really going to get you thinking is the more important piece of information I have to tell you. And you can choose to listen or not." The Oracle stared at Trinity, her cigarette held to one side. 

She forced her head to nod at the Oracle, who continued after inhaling the smoke of her cigarette. 

"You hide yourself behind this wall. And you think that you're all powerful. The truth is, you're petrified, and no matter how many times you hear it the more that wall of ice builds around your heart." The Oracle puffed her cigarette, sending a cloud of white smoke to the light above the kitchen. "You're going to have one hell of time when he steps into your life."

"The One." Trinity had mouthed to herself, getting a smile from the Oracle who took another puff of her cigarette.  
"Bingo." She commented. Somehow, that wasn't a comfort to Trinity. "You're smarter then I thought. Most just walk in here and ask me stupid questions, making me run in circles repeating myself. They think it's some privilege to be sitting here. I just think it's tiring, personally. And something tells me you hate small talk."  
"It's not something I like to do, no." She answered quietly.  
"Soft spoken. Tough. You're a stone Trinity. But eventually you are going to meet him, and you are going to have to realize that being a rock is okay. But pushing everyone you love and care for away? That's lonely."  
"Being lonely's okay."  
"Like I said. You are going to have so much trouble when he comes along."

************************************************************************

The latter part of the Oracle scene can also be read in my other story, The Allegory of the Cave. Well, there it is. And only three more chapters to go. Please Review.  



	10. When You'd Scream I'd Fight Away All of ...

Emerald3: Here is the next instalment! I hope you enjoy it!

ScullyasTrinity: I didn't find your review harsh at all. I appreciate any constructive criticism I get because it helps me improve, as long as people don't just come out and tell me that I suck and should stop writing, the reviews aren't harsh to me. BTW, it is a Rainbow Chips Ahoy cookie, because they are the best kind.

Protectress of Dalidon: Unfortunately, yes it must end, because the chorus of the song is nearly ending and I cannot end it mid-verse can I? So here is the next chapter, and I hope it makes up for it. You may also have a Rainbow Chips Ahoy cookie!

Disclaimer: It's all the Wachowski's. Also, you may notice that the fight scene between Morpheus and Trinity within this chapter mimics the fight scene from the Animatrix: The Last Flight of the Osirus (my personal favourite besides A Detetctive Story).

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Chapter 10: When You Screamed I'd Fight Away All of Your Fears

Morpheus had this cool smirk on his face as he leaned against the wall. Trinity walked out of the apartment, standing for a moment in the door as she allowed the previous ten minutes to sink in. She was not the One. She would fall in love with the One. But she was not the One.

_Why can't I see which is better?_

"What she said is for you alone." He stated, crossing his arms behind his back as he stepped forward and turned a little to face her. Trinity exhaled heavily and nodded softly, arms dangling at her side. She couldn't read Morpheus's emotions. She couldn't tell if he knew what the Oracle had said.

The sun was beating down outside as they stepped out. It was still rather cold, and by the growing buds on the trees she deducted that it was spring. Trinity hadn't realized it had been that long since she had been unplugged. The spring wind rushed to greet her in a sort of 'welcome back' nature. It played with her hair, making several stands fly from the gel they were glued to her scalp with. 

Morpheus pulled out his cell phone, dialling the number for Tank. Trinity barely noticed. She was fascinated with how many times a day she saw the routine of the machines. The way the man in the window of the coffee shop would always drink his coffee. The way the people in the parks would always walk their dogs. It all looked so programmed now, and so finite. 

Over the course of her time she had noticed her eyesight slowly fading green and becoming that of the code. Trinity would notice it every now and then, like a green raindrop in her vision. 

"Trinity." Morpheus voice awoke her from the vigil. She turned, seeing him stand next to Wraith's car. She walked to the back door, sliding inside next to Switch and Winter, who both had their 'pissed off' looks on. Wraith must have said something, but Trinity slammed the door with extra force inside of slapping him on the back of the head. 

"Where's the exit?" Wraith asked, looking particularly hard for Agents that day. Trinity looked out the window, not wanting to engage in conversation with Winter and Switch.

"Heart of the City." Wraith shook his head, laughing slightly. Trinity looked at him, but didn't receive any elaboration on his humour. She looked back out the window, watching as the bank passed by the car.

************************************************************************Miranda slammed the door. Erica just lay on her floor, bleeding from her broken lip and wincing from her swelling eye. Their recent fistfight hadn't been pretty. Erica's lip and eye were hit, while Miranda would have a nasty bruise where her niece had driven her fist. She succumbed to the silence, loving the sounds coming from outside as she tried to forget the salty taste filling her mouth. 

The front door slammed shut. A moment later, her door creaked open.

Quinn looked inside, the still form of her sister on the floor. Whatever Miranda had found or seen her do was pretty bad. Or it was just a bad day. _They are all just bad days, _she told herself,_ there's never a good day in this family._

Erica opened one eye and sat up, looking directly at her younger sister and tried to smile; tried to do something. But, just like usually, there was nothing to do. All she could do was lie there and pretend like everything was going to be okay. 

Quinn moved into her sister's room and helped Erica into a sitting position.

"Fuck off Quinn." Erica said, getting a sharp glance. The normally calm and serene eyes flaring to life with malice and ice. Erica stopped, allowing her sister to get up and go to the washroom, bringing back a wet Kleenex. The icy water hit her lip and Erica flinched, moving back. Quinn's hand went on her shoulder and held her tightly.

"Hold still." She said in a quiet and very un-commanding voice. Still, Erica sat still, feeling her brush the blood away. Quinn's fingers moved over her sister's eye, making Erica stare at her. Their eyes met for a moment, as Quinn finished with her task and left her sister's side for the bathroom again.

"Doesn't it get exhausting?" Erica asked. Her sister looked at her and stared her down for an explanation. "Being my mother?"

"I'm not your mother." Quinn stately simply, tossing the Kleenex out and washing off her hands. Erica shrunk, her shoulders going limp in exasperation. Quinn wasn't getting her drift.

"Why do you do…this?" She asked, unable to articulate what she really meant. Erica fidgeted, trying to stand. "Why do you waste your time?"

Quinn was at a loss for what to say. Either she was actually thinking about it, or she didn't have an answer for her sister. She turned off the running water and dried her hands. Erica gave a small moan and leaned against the wall. She'd given up for an answer. It wasn't worth her energy.

The taps were running again. Erica looked up in her sibling's direction as Quinn walked out of the bathroom. She handed her sister the glass of water in her hand and dried the water on her jeans. Erica just watched her, the whole situation almost foreign to her. She held the glass of water. 

Quinn said nothing. She walked to the door. 

"Miranda hid your stash in her room this time." Erica looked up at the mention of her drugs. "Under her bed. She's double bolted the door though." Quinn's figure left the doorway as she closed the world between she and her sister. It was still slightly ajar, just to let some air in. 

Erica rushed over and clicked it shut, setting the water on the desk with her other discarded plates. Quinn hesitated, but continued without saying a word back down the stairs.

************************************************************************

Travelling through a phone line sounded impossible when described by the 'master of words' Wraith. Trinity had stared at him strangely up until the point where he had placed the phone on his ear and faded from sight, the receiver dropping. It landed a inch from the ground, suspended by only the cord. She hung the phone back up and waited for the ring, sceptical to the point where she placed it to her ear.

A cold sweep fell over her as every fibre felt as if it were numb. She was swept back to the Neb. A blink of her eyelids and she was looking up and into the harsh lights of the core. The metal plug slid from the back of her head, making her clench her teeth from the odd feeling. It was like picking a scab. First it felt like it was burning. And then it felt like blood flowing from an open wound as it was finally removed.

She blinked as was custom as Tank pulled the plug from behind her and allowed her to sit up. Trinity doubted Morpheus's words that she would grow used to the feeling of being plugged in and out of the Matrix, especially when being unplugged felt as horrible as it did.

She got up from the chair, breathing deeply as she rubbed the socket on her head for relief. Wraith came up from his seat, glancing over at her.

"Did the Oracle give you good news?" He asked. Trinity glanced at, breathing deeply. She didn't give him an answer. Instead, the only response Wraith received was the sound of her footsteps leaving.

"Nice." Switch commented, as Winter slapped him on the back of the head.

************************************************************************

There was some sort of calm in the air. Trinity strained her ears, listening for the song of the blade as it sang in her fingers. The cold grip she had on the hilt was useless had she not known what she was doing. However, 10 gruelling hours of combat training and stealth tactics made it deadly in her fingers. 

She had discovered the Matrix only ten hours ago, receiving the same speech from Morpheus as he gave almost all the other crewmembers. It didn't weigh her down. If anything, she was relieved now, feeling twice as alive.

The blindfold across her eyes couldn't break her good mood. If anything, it pumped more adrenaline into her system and just made her happier. It was better then cocaine or heroin had ever done.

She stopped for a moment, listening, moving her foot just a tiny bit. The air whistled and she lifted the blade, Morpheus's strong force bringing his own upon her without mercy. 

Trinity pushed her hand against the smooth side on the blade, pushing on his. _Time to use some of the new shit, _she decided, and kicked upwards.

Morpheus moved, his sword whistling off somewhere. She took advantage of his distraction and went on the offence, swinging her blade over where she could hear his feet shuffling. He ducked up her first swing, bringing his leg around on the ground. Trinity jumped over it and flipped backwards as his blade whistled across her front from naval to nose. She threw the blade backwards through the air, springing off her feet and flipping back. Crouched low, Trinity caught the weapon by the hilt, keeping the blade down. She lifted it up, blocking off a nearly missed attack by Morpheus.

"Good." He said, moving back. She heard his voice move away from her. Trinity also felt the vibrations in the floor as his sword hit the ground. "Now take off the blindfold."

She followed orders, discarding the smooth silk fabric to her side. The Construct was a Japanese Dojo, with authentic weapons surrounding the top rim. Long banners hung from between the pillars on the walls. Trinity also noticed her outfit was a loose kimono, and nothing like the rags on the Neb. Morpheus was dressed the same, in white instead of black. Trinity dropped the sword. 

"Now hit me." He said. She lowered her eyebrows. "If you can."

"Is this supposed to be difficult?" Trinity asked. Morpheus's classic smirk travelled over his face and he took on the defensive pose this time, wanting to test her. Trinity copied, on the offence with her pose, watching as his hand beckoned for her to move forward.

Everything was faster this time without the blindfolds. Trinity raced forward, stopping only once to swing her leg up and move it around to Morpheus's head. She had intended to knock the smirk away, but his bent arm swatted her leg to the side and nearly hit her in the back. She lowered, rolling away and turning rapidly. Morpheus came after her and she jumped, swing her leg up and aimed for his chin with the ball of her foot. She narrowly missed and landed on her feet, but Morpheus's blow to the stomach caught her completely off guard, and she was sent backwards again.

The pillar shattered as she fell through it, and Trinity had just moments before she stuck the soft, wooden walls of the dojo. She groaned, placing a hand on the ground to stop her head from hitting the floor.

"Good." Morpheus said, walking to her, arms folded behind his back. "You're more free then the others. You're able to let loose of the rule much easier then they are. But that's not your weakness."

Trinity tilted her head to nod, back on her feet and punched straight for him, adrenaline making her feel much stronger then she assumed she was. Morpheus dodged the fist, twisting his body to get out of the way of her other. He was now on the run, Trinity able to become much faster. 

They were in the centre of the dojo, throwing their best moves at each other. Trinity was gaining speed with every attack. She blocked a punch to her head and jumped into the air, legs bent in a crouching position and arms to her sides to help her gain height.

It was like stopping time for a moment, focusing on her point of attack and seeing her point of impact. She kicked out so quickly it was a blur in her eyes. 

Morpheus was thrown back. Her foot had hit him in his upper chest, and when he left the ground he was forced straight into the wall. Trinity landed, breathing heavily and sweating. She leaned over, checking briefly that he got back up. The captain did so, and actually smiled.

Trinity had no idea how he could be so happy at a time like this. He got back to his feet, looking visibly worn and looked up.

"Tank." He commanded. The Operator was jolted awake from staring at the screens. Switch, Winter, Wraith, and a weary looking Cypher were hovering at the screen. Tank grinned, listening to the order from his headset.

"What's got you all happy?" Winter asked as he typed in the commands.

"Jump time." He said. The crew had to laugh.

************************************************************************

Erica blinked, looking around her room, confused. Her wrists burned under the bandages. She cursed herself for not changing them every few hours like the doctor's had ordered, and instead, fallen asleep on her bed. She had just flicked on the bathroom light when she found that they had been changed, and everything to change them again was arranged on the bathroom sink. 

Erica flicked off the light, sighing deeply her herself as she relaxed against the doorframe. The hallway was quiet now, blue moonlight coming in through the windows and making her eyes hurt from adjusting. Her mother's room was silent. She lifted herself up and glanced out the window, finding the car gone from the driveway. She lowered herself back down, deciding to go watch some TV.

The glow of the screen cast itself over the wall at the bottom of the stairs, diminishing the thoughts of her having any privacy. Friday nights weren't usually like that. Her mother and Tom always went out, but Quinn usually stayed in her room like a hermit. Erica got the TV and main floor to herself in case she wanted to have friends over. 

She didn't think Quinn had any friends.

She moved past the open door, going down the back way to the kitchen. The scratch of Quinn's pencil alerted so many memories of her late night habits in the kitchen, watching her sister personify death in the leather bound sketchbook she owned. Erica moved to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water from the small amounts of food lying out of place on the shelf. Her mother never did the grocery shopping. She left two twenties on the counter every second day for her daughters, expecting them to do it themselves. Erica was forced to eat the small amount of food her mother bought. Her twenty went immediately to the nasty little habit hidden under her mattress.

She sat up on the counter, drinking back the water to fill her stomach. She was never hungry for solid food. Water could sustain her for a long time, whether she drank a lot of not.

Quinn said nothing as she walked by her sister, moving to the knife drawer. Erica watched her, seeing her sister's skin illuminated in blue and the blade send shivers down her spine. The serrated edge beckoned her with a song, humming as Quinn carefully pulled it to her side. 

"What does it feel like?" She asked curiously in her small, childish voice. Erica looked at her, glancing at the knife.

"Feels like shit. Seventeen stitches in either wrist." Quinn looked at the ground.

"What did it feel like when you did it?" She asked, watching her sister. Her eyes were like ice from the moonlight in the windows. Erica's eyes were hidden by her shadow.

It took a moment for Erica to respond.

"It felt like falling." She spoke quietly. "And never hitting the ground." Quinn looked at the ground, clutching the hilt of the knife in her hands. Erica envisioned her sister letting out all her repressed anger and simply attacking her, slashing at her with the steak knife as she had imagined her doing so to her mother with the razorblades. She was daring her sister to do it, trying to feel the pain of the stab wounds. In her mind, Quinn shook her head with a small smirk on her face and walked away, slashing at her own skin to make up for the lack of blood shed. She dismissed the thoughts as her sister walked away, knife at her side.

_Falling, and never hitting the ground,_ she thought, placing the bottle at her lips once more. _Morbidly poetic, Erica, but it sounds like a line out of some movie._

She hopped off the counter and walked back down the hall, checking into the TV room. Quinn's head was bent over her sketchbook, moving over the shaded form of Tom and her mother's corpses, each drawn impaled on a steak knife. Erica turned back up the stairs. 

************************************************************************

Trinity looked over the edge of the building, looking at Morpheus on the other side of the street. He had made it looked so easy, simply jumping off the edge and floating over to the other side. She sighed deeply, moving back on the roof and looking at him, so far away. 

"I'm betting a weeks worth of dishwashing that she makes it." Wraith said, watching the screen. Winter shook her head. 

"That's a fools bet." Switch commented. Cypher laughed. 

"No one ever makes the first jump." He said during his small laughter. Tank punched in multiple angles for them to look at, converting the whole station into a live broadcast station of the program. Wraith tilted his head.

"Yeah, but nobody's ever been able to hit Morpheus either." He said, making Cypher silence.

"You're on." He replied, shaking hands with Wraith.

"Men." Winter said under her breath, watching.

Trinity took a deep breath, closing her eyes. The wind penetrated her light sweater and pants she had been uploaded into. They weren't half as comfortable as the kimonos, but she could care less at this point. 

In an instant, she opened her eyes and took off in a run. She looked at the ledge, shutting her eyes as she stepped onto it and jumped.

For a moment she had thought perhaps she had done it. The wind passed by her, but slowed down a second later. Trinity's eyes opened as she looked down over the empty street, and then started to fall.

Wraith groaned as Cypher laughed again.

"No one ever makes the first jump." He patted Wraith on the shoulder. "Have fun." Winter giggling, shaking her head of blonde hair. Switch just rolled her eyes, moving back into the ship. The two stayed to the screen, watching Trinity free fall down 24 stories.

The pavement was so close, and she could taste it. She had a strange feeling of déjà vu, watching the rushing landscape rush up to greet her.

Impact.

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Two more chapters. Yes, it is sad, but I've got another Matrix story already being thought up and I hope to have it posted the second I finish this one.


	11. And I've Held Your Hand Through All of T...

ScullyasTrinity: I was afraid I would have to kill of Wraith, but I will leave the imagination to do its worst on his character. Perhaps he was fired by Morpheus. Hmm…not sure. And here…(gives her a glass of milk) Now you no longer have to provide your own milk.

Emerald3: Here is the second last chapter, and I know how you feel. I really don't want to quit writing, but all good things must come to an end and I would rather end here, with everyone loving it then end with everyone hating it.

Protectress of Dalidon: Well here's the update, and it was neither soon nor late, so I suppose it works out okay in the end. You're making me an award? Have another cookie! I don't deserve an award!

Alocin: I have decided Quinn's fate, and in some ways it is tragic but in others, it prevents her from becoming the next Michelle Trachtenburg and from Trinity suffering too much more psychological torment! But that's all in the final chapter wrap up!

EVERYONE DESERVES ALL THE COOKIES THEY CAN EAT!

Disclaimer: Wachowski's. Enough said.

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Chapter 11: And I Held Your Hand Through All of These Years

Mrs Porter called up the stairs again, finally hearing Erica traipse down to the main level in her coat and boots. Miranda said nothing, still angry about the bruise on her shoulder from their fight yesterday. She stuck to a simpler phrase, saying only, "You're five minutes late."

Erica sneered, lips and teeth clenched in anger at the sight of her Aunt alone. She reached in her pocket and pulled out her car keys, going straight out the front door and down the porch steps. She was careful on the icy walkway in her heels. Miranda's eyes watched from the door before shutting it. 

She drove down the street, watching the sidewalks for her slow moving sister. She caught sight of the uniform clad girl, head hung low as she tried not to slip in the elegant heels Miranda had purchased for the new school year. She had been planning to go to the Public School not far from their family's home, but Quinn was forced into the Catholic School at the last minute. Erica pulled next to the sidewalk and rolled down the window. 

"Get in." She ordered impatiently. Quinn ignored her. Erica stopped the car and honked the horn. "Get in or I'll run you down."

The younger of the two grabbed the handle roughly and opened the door, sliding inside. Her skirt came up on her thighs, but she pulled it down uncomfortably as she threw her bag into the bottom of the car. It was already in the minuses, and Quinn was only a sweater. She hugged her arms to her chest. Erica turned on the heater for her, although pretended not to notice. Quinn looked at the floor. For a while, Erica just stayed parked on the side of the road, saying nothing and barely regarding her sister's presence.

"Did Miranda send you?" Quinn asked bitterly. Erica put the car into drive and pulled away, taking her anger out on the road rather then trying to snap at her sister. "You should just stay in your room."

"Look, Quinn, you can baby me all you want. But if I have to baby you, you should just shut up." She didn't say 'want' in her final statement. She replaced it with a 'have', as if it were some unwritten obligation to pick up her sister. Quinn sat there, spitefully silent and wallowing in her own self pity. Erica dropped her offensive edge. "You want something to eat or…something?" 

Quinn shook her head no, watching her sister speed through a STOP sign. She uncrossed her arms, playing with her silver thumb ring as Erica breathed deeply.

"We never talk anymore." Quinn admitted, looking up at the road. Erica glanced at her, looking back at the road.

"We never talked." Erica countered, not bothering to turn on her signal as she turned down the road. Someone honked and she just honked back. Quinn looked out the window longingly. Erica glanced at her again, before looking back at the road.

"I killed Mom." She said.

"You didn't kill Mom."

"You weren't there. How do you know I didn't?"

Erica couldn't believe that this conversation was persisting.

"Can we have a conversation about something other then death, Quinn?"

"Why haven't you ever been to her grave?"

"What is this, an interrogation?" Erica nearly drove into the lane next to her, taking out a small convertible who honked angrily. She pulled back into her lane as Quinn shot a dirty look at the opposite driver.

"Why haven't you been to her grave?" The younger sister demanded. Erica angrily skidded to a halt and pulled over into the parking lane, nearly causing a five car accident. Erica pulled the car into a parking spot and stopped short.

"Look, if you want to talk, we'll talk about anything. I don't care if you want to spill your guts on fucking school." Quinn's eyes were locked with her sister's, the words from Erica's mouth making her shake with anger. "But I will not be bitched at to go and look at that woman's grave. Get it?" Quinn was frozen. "Get it?" Erica asked a little louder, as her sister nodded. She got back in her seat, watching traffic go by. Quinn looked out the passenger window again.

"Wanna go dig up her body?" She asked sinisterly. Erica put on her turning signal.

"And do what?" She asked.

"Burn it."

Erica gave an exasperated sigh, pulling into the lane next to her.

"Nice weather, huh?"

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The lights on the graveyard were such that Erica and Quinn could only see a few paces in front of them, if even that. Shovels were in their left hands and Quinn had a gas can in her left. Erica felt as if this was an immature way to act, and knew for a fact that supporting his sister's desecration of their birth mother's corpse was a crime against so many laws, but she no longer cared. Quinn was a big girl now. A bit strange, but a big girl. And maturity was no way for her to act when her own mother physically, emotionally, and verbally abused her. 

The moved off the path, walking over graves without any remorse for the people underneath them. Quinn moved forward quickly, finding the spot where the funeral had been by memory alone. She immediately looked at the tombstone. Her blue-grey eyes lowered and she thrust the shovel into the dirt, the case can dropping to the edge of their digging area.

Erica didn't need a reason why. She breathed out a puff of white cloud, shivering in the cold night as she and her sister continued to dig.

"She was a bitch." Quinn spoke clearly, tossing another shovel full of dirt over her shoulder. Erica nodded, pulling up another shovel full. "I wish I did kill her."

"We can't have everything." Erica said, striking downward at the dirt. 

Quinn and she were sore by the first foot, their arms protesting in throbs of agony. Still, they persisted, watching their coffin sized hole stretch down another foot, and then another, until they struck down at the same time, hitting the solid surface of their mother's final resting place. They looked at one another, the nearly identical sisters continuing their journey. The final layer of dirt was removed, and they hopped out of the hole, sitting on either side.

"Should we open it?" Quinn asked, holding the gas can on her lap. Erica watched the hole, believing she saw her mother screaming at them to go back to bed.

"No." Erica said. "Just as she is." Quinn nodded, opening the lid of the gas can and started to pour.

The smell was intoxicating, splashing off the smooth surface of the coffin and hitting their shoes. They lifted their feet out, bathing in the scent for a moment before Erica pulled out her lighter and made the small flame, the only light in the darkness. Quinn brought out her digital camera, nodding at her sister who dropped the flame. 

The two ran in separate directions as the orange glow hit the gasoline. There was a snap and a bright light engulfed them, heat moving over their backs as they turned and watched their mother burn. Erica felt completed somehow in watching that, her sister moving back to the scene of the crime and flashing pictures as the cheap coffin lid burned to ashes. 

Quinn sat down at the edge of the hole, her skin glowing orange. Erica walked around to her side, slumping next to her on the cold grass.

"We're always on other sides of the coffin aren't we?" Quinn murmured softly, as if reciting some poem. Erica put an arm around her sister, sitting there near the coffin. "Now we just need Miranda in that hole."

"Keep dreaming." Erica said, feeling her sister's head on her shoulder.

"Would you kill for me, Erica?" Quinn asked as Erica patted her shoulder and ran her fingers through the girl's hair.

"I'd think about it." Erica replied, feeling the curls under her fingers. "Why?"

Quinn maybe didn't have a response, because she said nothing after that. Erica just watched the smoke rise into the air of their mother's bonfire.

"I'd die for you." Quinn finally said. Erica didn't say anything.

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Trinity felt sick to her stomach. It could be the lack of food, but she was sure after her first introduction to the food on the Neb that it could be the intake of food that made her nauseous. She sat on her bed, legs bent to her chest.

It had started with the flu. And now the memories were haunting her, begging her to remember. She was stunned at how irritating they were, always bugging her to remember and remember and remember. That day in the cemetery was the first day she and her sister had smiled in a long time, while the scent of burning corpse filled the very air they breathed. And now, the memories were happening faster, adding up to the day that she left. 

She felt like she had betrayed Quinn somehow by leaving. Like leaving her on the country road was wrong. Well, Amnesty International would tell her it was wrong and she was convinced that her betrayal was killing Quinn and herself. She could ask Morpheus at any time to let her go back in and have a heart to heart with her sister.

But she and Quinn never talked. They just questioned each other of secret intentions and odd, morbid thoughts that they produced. Heart to hearts weren't in their criteria of sisterhood.

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Miranda had tried to convince them to go into therapy after their mother's death. Quinn was so screwed up she nearly sent the psychiatrist into therapy, and Trinity remembered finding the pictures of the doctor shivering in the corner of the mental institution in her sister's sketchbook. She could picture people as they were.

Erica was frightened when she'd found Quinn's sketchbook of her. From the earliest moments, the faded black cover housed the pictures of Erica over the years from the pathetic stick drawings to the progression of her art. She had drawn the suicide over and over again, the cuts mesmerizing her. The older sister flipped through the pages, seeing her eyes stare out of the next page. The smudges of charcoal over the next made the whole scene seem real, like she was looking into a window of her life.

She slammed the covers shut, dropping the book back on the coffee table. Quinn walked in from the kitchen, watching her sister leave. Clutching the book to her chest, she sank onto Miranda's couch and lay back, hugging the lasting impressions of her sister like a lifeline.

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Trinity knew Wraith was outside the door just as it open, knowing his forwardness better then anything. He just opened the door, allowing it to open in front of him. Morpheus always had a hand on the door, never allowing it to slide. Winter knocked, unless she was angry, and she was only ever angry at Wraith. As for Switch and Cypher, then never opened her door. They were too busy with other stuff.

"You miss her, don't you?" He leaned against the doorframe, saying it as more of a statement then a question. Trinity didn't say anything as she just sat there. Wraith, sighed deeply, walking inside and closing the door behind him. He sat on the bed next to her. "It was real wasn't it?"

Trinity gave a small 'humph', feeling the rough mattress compress on where he sat. She felt his hand on her shoulder, reassuring her of his presence.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"No." She put it bluntly, shutting him out, hoping he would leave. Wraith took his hand away, sighing deeply. He shrugged a little.

"I always heard it was easier to deal when you talked about it."

"Well I don't want to talk." She snapped back. "That's all it is with you people. It's just talk, talk, talk."

"You and Quinn never talked?"

Trinity's patience was wearing thin. It was one thing for her subconscious to grill her about Quinn. It was a completely different thing entirely for Wraith to do it. But she finally dropped, too exhausted to fight back.

"No, Quinn and I never talked." She said, sighing deeply. Wraith crossed his arms, listening to her. Trinity remained curled up within herself. 

"You must have had some sort of interaction." Trinity shook her head. Wraith pouted his lip, shrugging again.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me." She demanded. Wraith sighed deeply, looking over at her.

"You just seemed really…close, that's all." Trinity looked away, staring at the floor. Wraith said nothing. He patted his knees. 

"Look, I'm don't mean to press you." He said, standing up off the bed and dusting off his lap, getting the wrinkles out of his pants. Trinity looked at him. "Morpheus once told me that you can't get someone to confess something to you that they haven't confessed to themselves yet."

"Go away." She said quietly, burying her face in her arms again. Wraith nodded, moving to the door.

"Just one more thing." He said, looking at Trinity as she didn't move, no longer acknowledging him. "I don't think she blames you. And she wouldn't blame you if you went to talk to her."

The door closed. Trinity stayed there, feeling the waters of her insanity rise over her mouth as she started to drown.

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Erica lay awake in her bed, unable to sleep. Downstairs the house was empty. Her parents had stopped hiring babysitters after Erica's eleventh birthday. She had yet to see any money come from the shit of a job they called babysitting. Quinn practically raised herself. 

She could hear the front door open and the shouting that followed. It was the first time in their relationship that Tom and her mother had fought about anything. Erica groaned, pushing the pillow over her head and started to sleep, closing her eyes. 

Her eyelids opened immediately with the pounding footsteps up the stairs. Erica felt her blood run cold as the hallway was filled with Tom's alcohol stench. Her mother was screaming downstairs, telling him to get his ass back down there. Tom moved to the stairs and shouted some curse at her mother, before walking back down the hall.

Erica heard Quinn's door open and the sounds of his footsteps going inside. Tom shouted for Quinn to wake up. Any other ten year old would have screamed if their mother's boyfriend came into their room and shouted. Quinn was silent. 

There was a slap, followed by Quinn's scream. A second later Tom was shouting blue bloody murder. Erica got out of bed, running into the room as Tom threw her sister onto the bed. His eyes were glazed with intoxication and he snorted at Erica to leave. 

The older sister didn't move, frozen in the doorway. Tom came at her, as Quinn jumped onto his back and he landed on the floor as she punched him in the back of the head. The drunken man threw her backwards, Quinn fighting back sobs as she connected with the wooden bed frame.

Her mother's shouting enraged her more. Erica bolted into her own room, grabbing the first weapon she found. The letter opener glistened in her hand in the faint light coming from outside as she ran back in. 

Quinn had kicked him in the crotch with her heel and was moving to the door. Tom grabbed her ankle, hurling her to the floor. Erica screamed out in anger, as he stood to meet her, dropping Quinn. She thrust the letter opener into his thigh, feeling the blood drip down her fingers. Lightning fast she grabbed her sister's hand and pulled her out of the room and down the stairs. Her mother was on the couch, crying and screaming drunkenly. 

Erica grabbed her mother's purse. She was leaving. And she wasn't coming back.

Quinn stayed close, as her sister dumped the contents of the purse onto the ground. The car keys tumbled out, landing on the carpet. She heard the pounding of Tom's footsteps on the stairs, moving downward. Erica grabbed the keys, dragging Quinn out the front door. They were halfway down the steps when Quinn was yanked back and thrown onto the porch. Erica turned a second too late, her arm grasped firmly in Tom's hand.

"LET ME GO!" She shouted. Quinn was on his back again, digging her nails into his neck. Erica tried to yank her arm away as Tom batted at the petite sister on his neck, latched on for dear life. She yanked one last time on her arm.

SNAP!

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Trinity shook herself awake, pushing herself up and off the bed. She fell back down, realizing she had slept on her arm and it was limp beneath her. It suddenly flared to pins and needles and she closed her eyes, breathing heavily. It was so long since she had thought about that night when she had first attempted to run away.

She thought she had seen blood stains on Quinn's fingers, but it could have been the way her head interpreted the blur of events that followed. Her mother getting her into clothes rather harshly and may have added to the way her arm had broken. But Quinn's hand had barely left her wrist, studying the way the arm was snapped with some sort of infant like enthralment.

_LEAVE ME ALONE!_ She ordered mentally, closing her eyes tightly and curling up on the bed. _Just go away and leave me alone!_

She felt her arm come back, but the soft fingers of her sister's grip still remained there on her wrist. Trinity was growing angry, and finally got up and walked to the Core.

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Next Chapter=Last Chapter. Please review!


	12. But You Still Have All of Me

Alana the Black Mage: Funny you should ask about Wraith, because the way I pictured is that he doesn't die, and is transferred to another ship with Winter just before Neo is found. They actually fall in love (despite sexual tensions between them) and appear in one of my future stories which I'm working on. Thanks for reviewing and enjoy!

Protectress of Dalidon: I don't deserve an award! But hey, what am I saying. Please do! Lol. And because you've been a faithful reviewer, have this squishy key chain shaped like Morpheus!

Gordo4life: Last chapter is right here. Thanks for your review!

Alocin: Yes! My next story is Trinity as well. She's my favourite character after all. And I'm not sure marshmallows would be best prepared with fire from a burning corpse… but who knows?

*Sniff* I will miss you all. THANKS FOR THE GREAT REVIEWS!

Disclaimer: Wachowski's.

Note: Quinn's fate is decided, and I hope I did some good. It's tragic in a sense, and she does not make the Matrix into the new Buffy the Vampire Slayer!

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Chapter 12: But You Still Have All of Me

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Morpheus asked, just making sure Trinity's judgement wasn't clouded by a childish obsession. She gave a weak sigh, sitting in the chair and nodded shakily. She knew that she could just go on without talking to Quinn. She knew that she could have simply walked away, but she nodded all the same. The captain empathized, allowing her to go in by herself. 

The plug moved into the socket, making her tighten her eyelids as the LOAD button was pressed. She was dropped into the construct, in front of a coffee table with a single handgun placed upon it. Trinity took it, feeling the handle in her hands. She assumed it would have been Wraith's idea, but she didn't press on the matter from lack of time and lack of strength. She would go speak to Quinn, and that would be all.

The construct faded, placing her on a fairly busy city street. 

"This is as close as I could get you." Tank said through the cell phone. She nodded, forgetting that he could not hear the action. "Morpheus says to not be too long."

"This won't take long." Trinity knew in her heart Quinn would storm off on some rampage. But she had to try. Sleepless nights were worth every angry word she could hear Quinn scream at her.

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Erica hadn't heard a noise all night, and she had kept the television off just to make sure the house was as silent as she had thought. Sure enough, there was not a whisper. The ancient floorboards didn't crack and the whole house seemed empty, even though Quinn's strange aura was still able to penetrate it. She'd left her sketchbook on the table, several papers falling from the crisp pages and fluttering over the surface of the coffee table. She wasn't usually so careless, especially with two drunks in the house, but their mother and Tom were going out for the weekend. Erica also found Quinn's imagination getting the better of her, finding pictures of a car wreck and a Jack the Ripper inspired picture of the two dying. 

Worry wasn't the way she felt for Quinn. On the contrary, Erica found that she had no concern for Quinn and her melancholic interest in death. She could figure it out someday, and the older of the two was not about to reprimand her for picturing their mother dying. If she could draw half as well as Quinn, Erica could see herself doing the same.

Curiously though, Erica knew she should have been able to hear something through the house. Whether it be Quinn's charcoal or someone trotting back and forth in the bedroom, thinking to themselves about new photographs or pondering about death. It made her feel empty inside, as if every inch of her was hollow. Erica stood up, glancing at her wrists. The stitches would be removed the day after tomorrow, making her quite happy. She doubted it would be the last time she would see them, since Quinn had been sketching them relentlessly.

She got up, walking to the stairs and half expected her hear Quinn do something. But nothing happened, the whole house was just…empty. Erica climbed up the stairs, making her way to the hallway where the bedroom doors lay open. She moved around the corner, actually finding Quinn's door ajar, and the window beyond wide open as the wind poured through it. The blinds fluttered on the breeze, dancing on the sweet wind. 

But Quinn wasn't inside.

"Quinn?" Erica asked quietly. She looked about the room, the small bedside lamp on and giving off a small yellow glow. Different colours of light bulbs lay on the bed, next to her four different cameras and rolls of film. Sketchbooks were in a pile on her desk, stretching at least a foot high. Next to them were novels, which had a habit of strewing themselves over her room. Requiem for a Dream caught Erica's eye, along with Plato's The Republic on her bedside table.

"Quinn." She said again, a little more loudly this time. A foot hit the window sill and with a good grip on the roof above her, Quinn lowered herself down, staring vividly at her sister. Her blue eyes were struck with the light, the pupils shrinking so tiny her eyes looked almost all white. Erica sighed a little as her sister moved back outside. She walked over to the window, watching Quinn swing herself onto the slants of the roof overlooking their backyard. The ground was painted in the moonlight, striking their pale skin and making them look like fantasy creatures. 

Erica pulled herself up as well, seating herself next to her younger sibling who was watching the street beyond the trees in the front yard. The car headlights moved down the streets the cars turning invisible as the light of the street lamps escaped them. Their eyes were like ice as the moon came down upon them.

"I want to jump." Quinn admitted nonchalantly, like she was making normal, everyday conversation. "But I don't want to hit the ground." Her eyes were continuing to look off the edge of the house, staring longingly at the ground and willing it mentally to disappear so she could continue falling and falling. Erica breathed heavily.

"Why death?" She asked, watching her sister with the same morbid interest Quinn had for her. Her sister didn't shrug. She proceeded to say the most Erica had ever heard her say in one of their conversations since childhood.

"It's dreaming in silence." Quinn said, closing her eyes and feeling the world around her. "It's beautiful, like the taste of tears and blood."

Erica looked away, at the ground and further off then the fences around their house. She had assumed for so long that Quinn would have been the first to take up the knife, but now it was she. 

"I want to get out of here." Her younger sister spoke, bringing Erica back to her with their eyes meeting for a brief moment. "It's the only escape route I know."

Quinn looked at her sister and moved over to the edge of the house. She stood up, reaching her arms out and tilted forward a little. Erica got up frantically, grabbing hold of her sister's shoulder and pulling her back onto the roof. 

"Stop it." Quinn said sternly, looking directly at her sister as they stood on the roof. Erica closed her eyes and looked away, down at the ground. "You can't pull me back."

"But you can pull me back?" Erica asked, recalling the sound of the phone as her heart beat slowed. Quinn shook her head.

"I didn't pull you back, Erica." She said quietly. "You brought yourself back."

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Trinity walked slowly into the graveyard. The memories of their bonfire came back to her. The way it felt to be rid of her like that made her whole body split apart, like every piece of her was lifting further and further away. It was beautiful to feel that, breathing heavily the scents of the flowers that grew throughout the cemetery. A small group of people were gathered around one, under the tree far off in the distance, watching the pastor give small blessings. 

The rain seemed to haunt her from that day, making her lift his head in remembrance, trying to remind herself of the way it felt. Trinity moved forward a little more, looking through the rows. She begged her mind to remember where her mother's grave was.

She found that her feet knew better, moving quickly to the back of the graveyard. It was the cast iron fence that struck her memory. She recalled the cool feeling of it under her hand while the other clutched a shovel close by. Trinity moved quickly, her hands at her sides.

She had expected to find her sister seated at the grave, sketchbook and charcoal in hands as Quinn drew the corpse. Instead the grave was empty, the same grave of her mother that had been the source of the 'majestic' sibling bonfire. Trinity, closed her eyes, almost in defeat. She wanted to call Tank and ask him to trace the delinquent for her, but she was keen on finding her sister without help. 

"Back here again?" A gruff voice asked. Trinity turned, looking at the source of the voice. The cemetery worker was about eighty, carrying around a bucket filled with soap and a sponge in his other. He realized his mistake. "Oh. Not you. Never mind."

"Do you know the girl who comes here?" She asked him, watching him moving down the path.

"I don't know no one who ain't dead." He spat back, walking faster. Trinity looked at the ground and moved after him. The cemetery worker looked back at his with his dark eyes. "You still following me?"

"I need to know who comes to this grave." Trinity demanded. The worker shook his head.

"I don't know anybody who ain't dead."

"Tell me!" Trinity demanded. The worker stopped, exhaling heavily.

"That girl might as well be dead." He told her. "She sketches the funerals sometimes. You can find her over in the park. Pretty messed up kid." Trinity nodded, taking off quickly. The worker watched her leave, turning away.

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The small park lay just beside the cemetery, small and secluded surprisingly on such a nice day. The sun light was broken through the trees, cracking on the green, grassy ground. Small drops of dew sparkled like diamonds as Trinity moved through the trees that surrounded the fence and playground.

She was actually afraid of seeing her sister again. Her heart was pounding with a great amount of force, and if she thought about it hard enough, she could actually feel her rib cage vibrate. She could see the black waves of hair bent over the sketchbook as the recognizable face of her sister started to come into view. Trinity was a good distance away, and she noticed that her feet had stopped walking. She was pausing, trying to think things through and figure out whether this is what she wanted to do or not. 

_Come on Trinity,_ the voice in her mind begged. _You could just leave. You could just walk away and neither of us would care._

_No. I'm going to do this. I have to get this over with._

Trinity walked forward, her heels stumbling slightly over the uneven ground. Quinn's box of pencils was open next to her, charcoal bits and eraser pieces laying on a open layer of cloth. Trinity knew that cloth. It was Quinn's baby blanket. The same blanket that she had cuddled her sister with on her first day at home. 

She stopped, unable to walk anymore. Quinn hadn't noticed or cared about her presence, and Trinity knew that she still had an escape route. She could walk away at any time.

_Get moving, Trinity,_ the voice ordered. 

Her feet kept walking.

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"You're taller then when you left." Quinn commented dryly, to no one in particular as Trinity approached her in the park. She continued to watch her sketchbook, the pencil still moving over the drawing. A quick glance at Trinity and Quinn was satisfied, staring at her art. "I thought you didn't like high heels."

Trinity felt a little shut down now at the comment of her boots. She looked at her feet, shifting them nervously as she moved closer and stood about a foot or so from her sister's form. Quinn obviously had no intention of even acknowledging her sister's presence.

"I need to talk to you." Trinity said, watching her sister. Quinn set the pencil into her pile and picked up her eraser, bring it down over the dark line and shading her drawing. 

"We never talk." Quinn said, clearly not sharing the same desire for conversation as her sister did. "And we never will talk. Don't waste your breath."

Trinity closed her eyes. She didn't think it would be this difficult. Quinn never took a stand for herself. She was feeding off repressed anger, proof that she too was haunted by the memories of her sibling. 

"I wanted to apologize." Quinn stopped smudging that shadow in her picture and finally lifted her head, looking at her sister. Her eyelids were covered in black mist, the blue-grey masses staring at Trinity with a haunting amount of anger. 

"For what?" She asked, looking back down at her art. Erica knelt beside her sister, her arms bent over her knees.

"For leaving." Erica said quietly. Quinn continued colouring, not interested. "Quinn." Erica said finally, looking at her sister. "Look at me."

Quinn looked up at her, crystal tears moving from her eyes. She stared into Erica through the sunglasses, watching her sister.

"Take them off." She commanded, her black hair lifted on a playful burst of wind. Erica reach upward, removing the glasses and showing herself at last to her sister. The two souls were attacking one another, their gazes penetrating the other. Quinn was significantly better at this, having practised with her art at working her way through an object. Erica was forced to look away. 

"I've hated every moment in my life, Erica." She said, addressing the warrior by her given name. Tears were falling down her cheeks, moving over her chin and dropping onto her lap. "I found more comfort in death then I ever found in waking up in the morning." She was admitting this to Erica, to Trinity, who was staring at the ground as if ashamed with herself. "Nobody understood that I hated every single moment I was living."

Erica had nothing to say. She could feel her heart pounding and a smooth tear move over her cheek and down her face. Quinn was speaking every word of the truth, completely angry at herself and at her sister.

The wind billowed again, playfully tossing Quinn's hair.

"I wanted you to let me fall that night." She said. "But I couldn't let you fall because you were the only constant in my life." Erica looked up, their glossy eyes meeting in a stand still as the wind sympathized with Quinn's emotions. "I knew you didn't need me. But for Christ's sake, I needed you."

"Quinn, I wouldn't be alive today if you had jumped that night." Trinity spoke like a stone. Erica came back in and looked at Quinn, realizing just how different they really were. She wiped the tears away. "I did need you."

The smaller girl was breaking slowly, the pieces of her fragile nature melting away to the soft human inside. The white scar on her knuckles was very evident on her skin, the pinkish hue of her hands bearing the snow white line proudly. 

Erica could feel her sister's grip on her arm the whole way to the hospital. She could still feel the punch to her face the night on the driveway. She could still feel the way it felt to burn her mother's corpse on consecrated ground. But Trinity couldn't. Trinity couldn't understand the feelings that Erica could.

"I've been dreaming in black and green." Quinn said, turning her attention back to the world before her. She seemed to alive in it, the way artists and poets always seemed. Everything about her was so happy in that place, even though the tears in her eyes betrayed everything she was actually feeling. Erica watched her. "I know you've been seeing the green rain."

She nodded slowly to her sister's statements. 

"I can't come with you." Quinn said. Erica's brow furrowed. Her sister looked back. "We can't keep stopping one another."

Quinn breathed very deeply, her sister and she locked in silence. Finally the younger of the two spoke again.

"It's time to let go." She decided, so sure of herself as she spoke the words. Trinity found the meaning behind them as Erica searched for it. The warrior finally nodded, reclaiming her stone like face and features. Quinn nodded, allowing a final tear to fall as she looked around the park again. 

Erica moved her eyes slowly over her sister's artwork. The picture was of a black haired woman slowly slashing away at her skin as the pieces of flesh dropped to the ground. It took her a moment more to realize the woman had her own face.

For what seemed to be the first time in her life, Erica took her sister in a hug without her sister making the first move. Quinn started to quiver, holding her sister tightly as she buried her face in the black leather of her sister's trench coat. Erica took in her sister's scent, the smell of the Matrix telling her mind that she was wearing perfume.

But Erica knew that the feeling at that moment was real

Quinn let her sister go, looking at her face. She closed the sketchbook on her lap and moved slowly, picking up the pencils and setting them inside the case. Trinity heard her cell phone ring, and she was distracted only for a moment as she opened up the line.

"Trin, she's got a gun." Tank said frantically. Her eyes moved back to Quinn who snatched the weapon from the garter under her skirt. The hand gun was the same from the night of her sister's disappearance, and before Erica could stop her Quinn had put it to her temple and jumped away from her sister. 

"Put the gun down!" Trinity shouted, dropping the cell phone. Her younger sister held the gun still, her finger still on the trigger. "Quinn, put the god damn gun down now!"

"You can't baby me, Erica." She said, so sure of herself as she heard the gun next to her.

"I'm not babying you, now put the gun down!"

Quinn shook her head. Erica dashed forward, prepared to stop her.

Defiantly, her sister pulled the trigger.

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"I would die for you." The conversation had ended, but Quinn repeated herself anyways. The fire burned high into the night, making their face glow yellow in the firelight. Erica stared at the bonfire, watching their mother burn endlessly. For some reason, neither of them had ever felt better, even though they now stunk of the burned corpse and the smoke was clogging their lungs. Everything was better and happier, now that their mother never existed. 

"I don't need you to die for me." Erica said to her sister. Quinn didn't move, her eyes still visualizing her mother's screaming spirit rising from her tomb. Erica saw the same thing.

"What do you need, Erica?" Quinn asked quietly. Erica pulled her sister closer and lowered her head onto hers, the two bonded now better then they had ever been before. She didn't have an answer to the question, so she breathed heavily and answered with the same thing everyone said.

"I need you." She said quietly, so silent in fact that Quinn couldn't hear her. Her younger sister remained as ignorant to her answer as Erica had. "Quinn would you ever kill yourself?"

"Yes." She whispered in reply. Erica lowered her head. Her sister fixed her answers. "Only if I knew I didn't have anything else to hang on to."

"What do you need to hang on to?" Erica asked, finally turning her head. Quinn looked over at her, blue eyes shimmering in the dark. Her sister and she were silent and they turned their head back to the fire, watching it blaze into the night.

"You." Quinn finally said, but Erica didn't hear her. She watching the clouds rise over them.

************************************************************************

Erica hurled herself into Quinn, the two falling back on the ground. The gun dropped from her hands, the bullet moving over Trinity's shoulder and opening the leather coat. Quinn breathed heavily, her heart pounding in perfect unison with Erica's as they lay on the ground, blood moving from the older sister's shoulder and rolling over Quinn in thick, crimson rivers. She shivered under her sister, her fist tightening where the gun used to reside. 

"Why would you do that?" Erica demanded, shaking her sister. "Why would you even try something like that?" Quinn was crying again, watching her sister exert her agony onto her with her powerful shakes. She felt every year of anger.

"Because you could not! Because no one else could find the strength to do it!" Erica felt the words hit her straight in the chest, making her close her eyes and breathe in deeply.

"Quinn, I would never do that." She said. "Don't you get that?" Quinn remained silent. "Don't you?"

They were completely quiet, their lips unmoving as they stared at one another. Sadness itself was personified in each of their eyes, and as Trinity stood up to leave it made no difference. Her eyes were still weighted with pain and hurt as she watched her sister reach for the gun again. 

Trinity turned. She wasn't going to stop her sister for a second time. If Quinn was so intent on killing herself, neither Erica nor Trinity was going to stop her again. She was diligent. Eventually, she'd succeed.

She picked up her cell phone, moving away slowly. She looked around the park at the ignorance of the people who had simply walked away at the first sign of scuffle. Trinity opened her cell phone, ready to have an exit prepared. 

She had assumed Quinn's answering bullet would be heard any time soon, but she didn't hear anything. As she hung up, Erica turned one last time.

Quinn was seated again, drawing in her sketchbook. Trinity lowered her head. 

Nobody could save Quinn anymore, not even her.

She walked back down the street, moving to the ringing payphone. She picked it and gave a retreating glance at the park, unsure of where this path would lead her.

Without another thought, she pressed the phone to her ear.

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It has been completed, in the likeness of the mighty Trinity. I hope no one was disappointed with the ending. I was too attached to Quinn to have her die, but the thought of her becoming Michelle Trachtenburg? That's like making an AU Matrix in which she's the REAL ONE! Perhaps she will return, perhaps not.

My next story will hopefully be posted soon, although I'm not promising anything since I am going away for a week after Christmas. So if the first chapter is up and the second takes more then a week to upload, I haven't died!

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukah, and Merry Days to everyone who read and reviewed this story! Hope to hear from all of you again!


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